Husky Squadron: Huskies Unleashed COMPLETE
by Fuzzy Pawson
Summary: Part 1: The Huskies are called to a crisis 7 years after the events of SF64, joining Star Fox and the Cornerian forces in a desperate struggle. Note: No reference to SFA. Coarse language, Adult References. NEW: Dedication and Pilot profiles! *PLZ R&R* :)
1. Dedication

Dedication

Dedicated to all aviators, past, present and future, who took to the skies and challenged the odds for the ideals of science and human endurance, and those who continue to take to the skies for the love of flight and a passion for the most graceful machines ever made by man.

On December the 17th, this year, 2003, we celebrate 100 years of the airplane. Over these years aviation has had its triumphs and tragedies. 

The triumphs of the pioneers and the experimental programs propelled airplanes to where they are today. 

The tragedies were costly lessons that, in the end, made aviation safer and more reliable, shaping aviation too in their own way.

And, as always, the future lies ahead, full of possibilities and new challenges. May the spirit of aviation never fade, and may aviators continue to push themselves to the limits, to bring about new milestones and achievements in the tradition of the original pioneers.

After all, if it hadn't been people like the two little-known bike-makers who soared over a beach in Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, on December the 17th, 1903, where would we be today?


	2. Prologue

**UPDATE!**

**Thank you very much to those people who reviewed. It was, of course, much appreciated, and your input kept me going the whole time.**

**This story is now completed, but the tale continues in the next book (see epilogue).**

**I'm currently working on some group pics of the squadron. I'll post them up with the rest of the images and bios on the website (see below).**

**Oh, and Merry Christmas to all! :)**

**The usual banter: **

**Some of the characters in this fictional tale are owned by Nintendo and are used in this story for recreational non-profit purposes only. This includes Bill Grey, General Pepper and Fox McCloud. Some of the locations in this fictional tale are owned by Nintendo and are used in this story for recreational non-profit purposes only. This includes the planets and sectors of the Lylat System. Some of the technologies in this fictional tale are owned by Nintendo and are used in this story for recreational non-profit purposes only. This includes the Arwing and the Great Fox. (But then again, you knew all of that, didn't you?)**

**Please ask my permission before using any of the characters I created (IE anyone in the story not aforementioned) **

**You can see images of Husky Squadron at http://geocities.com/doofusarcanine/squadron.htm **

**Contact me! doofusofdestiny@hotmail.com**

Husky Squadron Part 1: Huskies Unleashed

Prologue:

Over the course of one year, the planets of the Lylat System were devastated by the forces of Andross, and suffered greatly while supplying his war machine. Only when the Allied forces spearheaded by the legendary Star Fox team made a dramatic counterassault did things begin to look up. One by one the planets were wrenched away from Andross' grasp, until finally Venom, Andross' base, fell to the conquering heroes.

Among those heroes was Husky Squadron, a CDF fighter squadron which contained some of Corneria's finest pilots. Assigned to Katina to help defend the colony there, it found itself fighting an overwhelming battle against swarms of fighters launched from a Venomian mothership descending on the planet. Its pilots, along with survivors from Bulldog Squadron, were able to hold on and keep the Venomians off long enough for the Star Fox team to arrive.

Lieutenant Bill Grey was one of those pilots. Serving as a flight commander during the defense of Katina, he was forced to take charge of the Squadron following the death of Captain Mitchell, and then take up the position of Wing Commander following the death of Commander Lee.

By the end of the war he had formally attained the rank of Captain and was a brevet Commander for the two CDF squadrons which had defended Katina.

What followed was seven years of peace, years in which Husky Squadron flew some 22 missions, though nothing quite as large scale as those they had fought in the war. Captain Grey was formally promoted to Commander, and Husky and Bulldog squadrons were attached to the newly-formed Katinian Defence Force.

Some of the old Huskies started their own squadrons, some transferred back to the CDF, one retired, one sought an easier job, but a few remained behind to lead the squadron in the event of another crisis.

Their chance to prove themselves was about to come.


	3. Pilot Profiles

Pilot Profiles:

Cmdr. Bill Grey

27yo Husky Male

Husky Leader

The best pilot in Husky Squadron, hands down.

He's outstanding in every facet of starfighter combat, from dogfighting to ground support, he's the best fighter and leader in the 3rd Tactical Fighter Wing. He's not only naturally skilled- he knows the weaknesses in many kinds of capital ship and has more tricks and tactics than he has strands of fur on his head. He graduated with impeccable scores from the Cornerian academy, and his skills have only sharpened since then.

As both an experienced and skilled pilot, he is an asset to the Katinian Starfighter Corps and consistently leads his fighters into battle. Though often caught in the shadow of the legendary Star Fox team, he holds no qualms over this fact and prefers to so his duty in his own way- without the fame and glamour of being one of Lylat's better known heroes.

Other: 

-Veteran of Andross War, fought at Battle of Katina.

-Accepted into Husky Squadron straight from the Academy.

-Commander of the 3rd Tactical Fighter Wing.

-Earned a great number of decorations, including the Cornerian Shield, the Wings of Katina, the Shield of Bravery, the Flight Medal and the Twelve-Pointed Star.

Leadership: 10

Dogfighting: 10

Anti-Capital Ship: 10

Ground Assault/Support: 10

Escort/Protection: 10

Capt. Perry Jackson

26yo Silk Terrier Male

Husky Two

Being an able pilot and a skilled sniper, Perry also acts as the squadron's own special forces consultant. He spent a while with Katina's commandos and often worked in the elite Dagger Regiment, giving him the best surface combat abilities in the squadron. When he's not drinking at a bar, he's either acting as Husky Squadron XO or liaising with ground assault planners, helping to co-ordinate an efficient and deadly air-ground assault (or defense, depending on the situation).

He does battle with two motivating (but sometimes conflicting) factors- Practicality and Instinct, though if they should clash, he always chooses instinct, and in that capacity he's always right.

Other:

-Veteran of Andross War, fought at Battle of Katina.

-Has a wife on Corneria.

-Earned a number of decorations, including the Wings of Katina, the Four-Pointed Star, the Shield of Bravery, the Flight Medal and the Red Arrow for Supreme Marksmanship.

Leadership: 9

Dogfighting: 7

Anti-Capital Ship: 6

Ground Assault/Support: 9

Escort/Protection: 8

Flight Officer Don Mossini

21yo Jackrabbit Male

Husky Three

Though not the best pilot in the squadron, he is one of the more recognizable members. Famed and feared for his practical jokes and verbal roastings, he is often seen as a pest or a rascal, though all squadron members agree, his jokes were always funny as long as long as they happened to someone else. He has proved valuable in past for keeping squadron morale up, and enjoys doing so.

In combat he is a very serious pilot, and doesn't fool around. He doesn't specialize in any particular skill, but is well rounded over all aspects of flying.

Other:

-Most reprimands and disciplinary infringements of all pilots in Husky Squadron.

-Best friends with Benny Swipes.

Leadership: 6

Dogfighting: 5

Anti-Capital Ship: 6

Ground Assault/Support: 6

Escort/Protection: 5

Flight Officer Benny Swipes

20yo Peregrine Falcon Male

Husky Four

He was a quiet, reserved young pilot once.

Then he met Don Mossini.

Together they have caused mirth and humiliation of an incalculable scale, and continue to come up with more outrageous plans for practical jokes each day. He's got valuable surgery skills and acts as the squadron medic most of the time. He's started teaching Flight Officer Kay some basics, and as such has shown he commands at least some respect from his peers.

As a pilot, his reflexes are excellent, and can fly circles around most pilots when coupled with an agile fighter. This winged wonder needs no help in a dogfight.

Other:

-Flew three flights as a test pilot for Cornerian Aerospace alongside Commander Grey.

-Is rumored to be related to Falco Lombardi.

Leadership: 5

Dogfighting: 8

Anti-Capital Ship: 4

Ground Assault/Support: 4

Escort/Protection: 7

Lt. Francine Bastion

27yo Arctic Fox Female

Husky Five

She's been a good friend of Cmdr. Grey for years, and they even had a short-term relationship a few years ago. Her reasons for joining Husky Squadron were personal: during the war with Andross, her entire family was killed. Following the initial battles, she proved where her skill lay and became a known and permanent fixture of the Huskies.

She is especially proficient at finding weaknesses in capital ships and to that end has attained the second-highest number of capital ships destroyed in the squadron- second only to Commander Grey.

Her tactics have earned her a place as a flight leader in Husky Squadron, and she continues to fly and fight alongside her fellow Huskies, even though her original cause has been fulfilled.

Other:

-Veteran of Andross War, fought at Battle of Katina.

-Leader of Two Flight.

-Earned a number of decorations, including the Four-Pointed Star and the Flight Medal.

Leadership: 8

Dogfighting: 5

Anti-Capital Ship: 9

Ground Assault/Support: 6

Escort/Protection: 6

Flyer Matt Keeler

18yo Golden Labrador Male

Husky Six

The youngest member of the squadron is inexperienced, but has the same natural skill Commander Grey showed at that age. This pilot has shown great promise, and graduated at the top of his class at the KDF Academy. Though not yet as skilled as many of his fellow pilots, he is expected to reach that skill level quickly through the toughest of training. He looks much younger than he actually is, and thus has to endure being called 'kid' by every other member of the squadron… even though they might just be one or two years older.

His skill in flying is complemented by a knowledge of computers and electronics, and is a great help to the squadron when modifications to faulty or substandard avionics systems are needed.

Other:

-First pilot since Commander Grey to be accepted into the squadron straight out of the academy.

Leadership: 3

Dogfighting: 4

Anti-Capital Ship: 5

Ground Assault/Support: 4

Escort/Protection: 5

Flight Officer Blaze Walters

??? Male

Husky Seven

Blaze Walters is an enigma wherever he goes. Little is known about this pilot by anyone except his flight leader and Commander Grey. Though this could potentially prove a security hazard, Commander Grey has cleared him without specific cause and most other officers turn a blind eye to this. His age and species are unknown, and there is no trace of any family history on him.

As a flyer, he's good with dogfighting, but is slightly more rounded than some dogfighters, like Swipes. He seems to be better with massed enemy starfighters, but can hold his own against a few skilled opponents.

Other:

-None Available

Leadership: 2

Dogfighting: 7

Anti-Capital Ship: 5

Ground Assault/Support: 5

Escort/Protection: 6

Flight Officer Terry Kay

25yo Bald Eagle Male

Husky Eight

This pilot is normally a gentle giant, of imposing stature and great strength, yet with a heart of gold and a quiet nature. He is caring, giving humble and charitable, and endears himself to everyone with his simple, lovable ways.

Yet contrasting with this is his fury in combat. Once he finds an enemy, he can prove a daunting opponent. Once he finds a friend in need of protection, he becomes the most stalwart of warriors, and can tear enemy formations apart in the protection of an ally. He is equally adept at close, hand-to-hand combat, thanks to his great bulk and immense strength. He is currently learning medical procedures from Flight Officer Benny Swipes.

Other:

-Gives to three charities.

-Earned the Shield of Bravery

Leadership: 3

Dogfighting: 5

Anti-Capital Ship: 5

Ground Assault/Support: 7

Escort/Protection: 9

Lt. Wallace Leahy

28yo Meerkat Male

Husky Nine

An eccentric and somewhat frightening pilot, he has nonetheless shown the skill and experience to be a Flight Leader in Husky Squadron. He's not the quickest mind among the pilots, but he's a brilliant tactician and the best card-player in the squadron. Whilst most of the squadron disregards his actions and thoughts as crazy, occasionally he will show that they are calculated and demonstrate great insight. He has led his flight to victory over seemingly impossible odds, and continues to show skill and courage in the face of danger. This pilot is sick and tired of battle, and some feel he should retire. However he still loves pushing the newest spacecraft to their limits, and he is still too valuable an asset to give up.

He is something of a pessimist, but that can be a good thing- he tends to look at the worst-case scenario when in a jam and makes better choices to worm his way out.

Other:

-Veteran of the Andross War, fought at the Battle of Katina.

-Leader of Three Flight.

-Earned a number of decorations, including the Four-Pointed Star, the Flight Medal and the Shield of Bravery.

Leadership: 9

Dogfighting: 7

Anti-Capital Ship: 4

Ground Assault/Support: 7

Escort/Protection: 8

Flight Officer Leena Sweet

23yo Border Collie Female

Husky Ten

Her background is not exceptional; born in a lower-class family, joined the academy in the same class as Flight Officer Pawson and enjoyed a successful early career in Talon Squadron. Her skills became noticed when Talon Squadron, coordinating with Husky Squadron engaged and destroyed a battalion of pirate forces. Flight Officer Sweet accounted for most of the kills, and was offered a place in Husky Squadron.

Her friendliness and open attitude earned her friends in the squadron nearly immediately, and she is always listening if someone has a problem.

Her combat skills focus on ground assault and support, and she is particularly skilled at dealing with enemy surface-to-air emplacements.

Other:

-Has a brother in Fang Squadron.

-Earned the Flight Medal.

Leadership: 4

Dogfighting: 4

Anti-Capital Ship: 3

Ground Assault/Support: 9

Escort/Protection: 6

Flight Officer Robin Charters

19yo Robin Male

Husky Eleven

A quiet pilot who is the second-youngest pilot in the Squadron. He is a decent pilot whose skills could still benefit from some experience. He has not yet played a large role in real combat- most of what he's seen is basic anti-piracy duties and acted as a backup for Lt. Leahy. He has no kills to his name yet.

He has shown his worth with his knowledge of the Lylat System and its planets, and has recorded most of what a fighter pilot would need to know in a small handbook which was reprinted for each member of Husky Squadron. He is an expert navigator and can plot a route from a hotel window on Corneria to a cave wall in Venom. He aspires to be as good as Falco Lombardi, and to that end has focused his combat skills on dogfighting.

Other:

-Was awarded Harding Navigational Award at the academy in his first year.

Leadership: 4

Dogfighting: 7

Anti-Capital Ship: 4

Ground Assault/Support: 4

Escort/Protection: 3

Flight Officer Fuzzy Pawson

22yo Husky Male

Husky Twelve

A very capable pilot whose knowledge of many kinds of combat starfighters compliments a natural dogfighting skill. He also uses this knowledge to upgrade and modify Husky Squadron's starfighters, and acts as the Squadron's mechanic. A technical savvy and a good head for physics allow him to bring together the right parts for the best starfighter. His social life has suffered in later times due to his job, and although he complains about it, he has never taken any real steps to lighten his workload- in fact the more he changes a fighter, the more he wants to perfect it.

He can often be crude in his manner, but his squadronmates don't really care. He only ever seems to bother Flight Officers Charters and Sweet with his less-than-winning ways.

As a combat pilot he's constantly learning from the others, and is therefore well spread in his skills, though he has an inclination to dogfighting. 

Other:

-Formerly a cargo pilot, before joining the academy.

Leadership: 6

Dogfighting: 7

Anti-Capital Ship: 5

Ground Assault/Support: 6

Escort/Protection: 6


	4. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Commander Bill Grey stared at the house, wondering how, or why, an Air Force Captain had managed to buy such a large and expensive abode at an exclusive suburb away from Katina City. The ferret, Captain Jim Cordan, or 'Sticks' to his friends, was single, had no-one to raise or help keep his home.

Sticks was a stock market whiz, and he claimed to have gotten all the funds he needed by investing cash in the right companies. The only reason why he was still in the Air Force was because of his love of flying, not of combat. He also seemed to be quite good at finding out information from the Top Brass before anyone else knew about it, and Bill had a suspicion that the invitation he got was going to end up being a little bit more than 'a friendly get-together'.

Bill pressed the doorbell, then looked up at a black speck in the door, waving and grinning like a maniac. Somebody within the house laughed, then the door slid open.

Bill made his way past formal dining and guest areas before emerging into the living rooms of the house, which seemed much more welcoming for their homeliness. A chorus of greetings met him as he walked into the midst of half of Husky Squadron and two members of Fang Squadron. A couple of the pilots were still wearing their squadron jackets, no doubt having headed over straight after the Squadron's tactical exercise.

"Well look who finally decided to show up."

Bill glanced towards the back door. There was Sticks, holding a bottle of beer in one hand and a keetburger in the other. He looked every bit his namesake, brown-furred and skinny as a twig, but he had a sharp mind and could easily figure out most problems with minimal worry. "Glad to see you're finally here, Bill. There's beer in the fridge… Yeah, go for it Harry."

A cold bottle sailed through the air towards Bill, and with the reflexes only a fighter pilot could manage Bill's hand snapped out and caught it. Then with a flick of his wrist he whirled the bottle around, opening it and pressing it to his lips in one smooth movement. Cheers and noises of amusement filled the room, and someone yelled "Look at that, boys! Bill thinks he's good!"

Bill gulped down three bitter mouthfuls then gave a superior stare to everyone in the room, then raised his bottle high. "I _am_ good."

More cheers. Sticks, Harry and Phil, the other member of Fang Squadron, didn't really get it, since it was something of a Husky Squadron catch-cry, but they chuckled to themselves nonetheless.

"Hey Bill, Come out here, help me with the rest of these keets."

Bill nodded to himself. That was code for 'Now I'll tell you why I really invited you'. He followed Sticks outside and smiled as the familiar scent of keets on the barbecue filled his nostrils. "Hey Bill, have I got good news for you. Your request went through."

Bill paused. "Wait, you mean…"

"Yep. I got word from a friend in High Command, the entire Katinian Defence Force is going to be re-equipped with Kodiak fighters. Looks like your chat with the president counted for something."

Bill was a little too surprised to show his full elation. For months he had been campaigning to replace the ageing LF-220's that had been in use since the war with Andross seven years beforehand. Seven years of peace had made the politicians lax, and defence spending had been gradually reduced to nearly nil. Now, all of a sudden, there seemed to be a sudden interest in the resumption of defence spending, and the fact that the government was pumping in enough money to replace the whole military's tactical fighter force with the most advanced production model available made Bill suspicious. Certainly his meeting with the President of Katina hadn't been enough to implement such a huge change in policy.

"Are you sure about that?" Bill asked.

"Sure as sure can be." Sticks replied. "And, your squadron's getting the first shipment."

"So that's why the others were so bouncy just now. You told them first."

"Yep. Here, take these inside." Sticks handed Bill a plate of burgers. Bill grinned and carried the plate back to the other pilots, who tore into them hungrily. Yet even as Bill began chewing into his own burger, a nagging problem remained at the back of his mind- why did the government _really_ order the new fighters? He could tell the same thing bothered Sticks, but no rational explanation came to mind. _I'll have to ask the General some things before I find anything out._ Thought Bill.

"Hey Bill! Get over here! The Game's starting!"

Bill smiled. _I'll worry about affairs of state later. Savoring the fruits of peace, ESPECIALLY the Speedball Finals, comes first now._


	5. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Following the defeat of Andross, the CDF moved into Venom, established a democratic government and built military bases around the major population centers. Deep inside one of these bases, intelligence agents were discussing the latest developments in a situation that was quickly extending beyond their control.

"…Yes, but if the fleet is bigger than what we expected, we could have some trouble containing it."

"Listen we'll let Pepper worry about that. Our job is to find out as much as we can about the fleet. Gerard, you've been talking for awhile on how difficult it'd be if the mystery fleet was larger than expected, well what can we do to determine the size of this fleet?"

"That's being efforted as we speak Commander Pontac, but no spy probes have ever made it close enough to do a good scan. One other option remains, we call the Star Fox team to investigate. Their combat record…"

"They are a last resort. Too expensive otherwise, and certainly out of the question at this stage."

"Commander Pontac, have they made any aggressive moves yet?"

The badger shook his head. "No, they're still there, hanging in space, as if they were waiting for something."

Silence fell across the room.

"Well then keep watching. Inform Pep and me if you find anything else new."

The speaker, a tall Badger, rose from the table, packed up a briefcase and departed the room, followed by others who weren't engaging in side conversations. Most dispersed to other parts of the base, but one followed to the elevator.

"Commander, we HAVE to call on Star Fox."

"Not now, Newton"

But the amphibian protested. "How else would we find out? Every probe we've shot in that direction has been destroyed! We're intelligence operatives dammit! It's our job to find out! Why don't you even recommend that course of action to General Pepper?"

"He wouldn't approve it."

The elevator doors opened, admitting the two creatures.

"Top Floor." Said Pontac. In response, the elevator doors closed and the elevator accelerated upwards, to the top floor.

"He approved the Star Fox team to a scouting mission before! Why don't you at least try it?! It's our best shot!"

"Are you being insubordinate, _Sergeant_?" Pontac sneered.

Newton was fuming. "No, _Sir_, but I think your handling of the situation is not as good as it could be. And the other agents back there, they'll agree, because they know what I'm talking about. You, on the other hand, you're not making sense at all!"

Pontac remained silent for a moment. The doors opened for the top floor, but he said "Basement." And the doors closed again.

"Sir?" Newton was beginning to have serious doubts about his Commander's sanity at this point.

"You know Newton, you're probably right." Said Pontac coldly. Then quicker than Newton could react, Pontac punched him right in the face, leaving him dazed. Pontac yanked Newton's sidearm from its holster and shot Newton three times in the chest. Then, as methodically as if it was drill, Pontac turned the blaster into his own shoulder and fired. He barely grunted as he felt the white-hot pain spread around his shoulder and down his arm. Pain was something he could take well. Pontac didn't need to worry about the elevator's computer; it didn't store any memory once its orders had been carried out, and it didn't record messages it did not recognize. He withdrew a small circular device from a breast pocket and pressed a protected red button on the elevator's wall. Within moments the elevator had stopped at the nearest floor, opening its doors to five security personnel gathered outside. "Commander Pontac! What happened here?! Are you all right?"

Pontac feigned great sadness, then looked at the five soldiers. "Newton ordered the elevator downstairs, he tried to jump me. I don't know why… I can't imagine why. I had to shoot him with his own gun."

One of the guards walked into the lift, bending over Sergeant Newton's still form.

"He's gone, sir."

"I know." Pontac said softly. "I found this on him." He tossed the little circular device he had been carrying to the soldiers outside the lift.

"A Venomian circuit jammer." Said one. "Looks like the elevator's security cameras are gonna be useless."

"We should never have enlisted a Venomian." Added another.

"I trusted him." Said Pontac. "I can't believe my trust could be so misplaced."

"We all make mistakes sir." The crouching soldier straightened up and signaled to a pair of medics arriving at the scene. "These guys'll take care of you now sir."

As Commander Pontac allowed the medics to lead him to the surgery, he almost grinned. A perfect execution to a dangerous opponent, a perfect execution.

Soon he wouldn't need to go about playing charades like this, soon he'd have much, much more. With the 'mystery' fleet in warp-space already, and High Command effectively under his web of deception, it was only a matter of time.

But for the moment, he let the medics fuss over him, believing him to be the loyal son of Corneria he pretended to be.


	6. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Twelve days later…

"Husky six, move it!"

"I'm trying sir….!"

Bill glanced at his sensor board. Husky Six was lagging behind again. He had slipped to the outside on the last turn and was labouring to catch up. Matt Keeler, a Golden Labrador, was the youngest pilot in the squadron at 18 years of age, fresh out of the academy.

"Approaching waypoint 5, Squad let's hustle! GO!"

The six tough new fighters angled upwards, going from a horizontal vector to a vertical one within half a kilometer. Husky Six was catching up now, but Bill decided to keep the rookie on his toes. "Squad, accelerate to full power on my mark…"

"Wait sir I'm still catching up…"

"MARK!"

Bill watched as his fellow Huskies followed suit, doubling their speed inside of three seconds despite a 20-tonne payload, and jetting away from a bewildered Husky Six. "Now Squad, approaching waypoint 6… GO!"

The five fighters pulled up again until they were flying inverted to the ground. Husky Six was cutting the square corners they just pulled, coming into formation behind Husky Three. Bill let a tone of amusement slide into his voice. "Husky Six, caught your breath yet?"

"No sir, I never lost it."

"Good. Squad break into prescribed flights NOW! Squad one to the obstacle course, squad two, stand by for your run! Let's GO!"

Husky Six swore as the more experienced pilots quickly cut away and headed to their new destinations, once again trying to catch up with his teammates.

Bill led his flight through a series of holographic rings, loops and tunnels, most moving, some firing false laser bolts at him. The course would be gentler for most squadrons, but Husky Squadron was anything but gentle. _Besides, how's gentle going to win a hard battle?_ Bill had always said.

A combination of thrust vectoring, airflow vectoring and maneuvering jets brought the three fighters around an impossibly tight corner in a tunnel, twisting upwards…

And straight into a simulated obstacle.

Bill braked hard and turned away, almost flying into the walls of the hologram in the process, but he leveled out, just in time to notice that the tunnel was actually _closing in_ on him! The exit was around two kilometers ahead. Bill put all power into engines, his fighter regaining all the speed it had lost in the sharp turn and then accelerating past that speed, putting him well out of the tunnel before the hologram could even touch his fighter.

"This is Husky Leader, I made it out. Training ground, that was a LOT trickier than last time. I mean, Shrinking tunnels?! Get a grip man!"

The training ground evaluator seemed disappointed. "I was hoping I'd snag you there Bill, but you went through without a scratch, again."

"Naturally." Bill smirked.

"Still, Husky Two ran into three holograms and Husky Three ran into two. Total time is 1 minute 49 seconds, plus penalties is 2 minutes 14, on the hardest course we've had ever, has anyone told you guys you don't get out of the cockpit enough?"

Everyone in Bill's flight laughed. "Hey, we get out more than YOU, Phil."

"You Freaks. Training ground, out."

Bill sniggered. "OK flight, back to the hangar. That was good flying back there."

Congregated in one of the Katina City KDF base's briefing halls were the twelve members of Husky Squadron, the flight controllers who witnessed their performance and a technician from Cornerian Aerospace. The highest-ranking creature there, Commander Bill Grey, was giving his views on the merits of the new Kodiak fighters.

"… so I think perhaps it needs a shield generator. Twice as tough as the LF-220's, but still not as tough as Arwings. If we get a shield generator in, she's definite competition even for the latest incarnations of the Arwing."

A Silk Terrier, Perry Jackson, Husky Two, nodded. "And she may be a lot heavier than our old light fighters, but she's every single bit as agile. I think if we master manipulating the controls for maximum maneuverability we can get her to turn circles tighter than Invader III's. Firepower is almost excessive, I found that on the target range, there was little power left for much else once I engaged more than 5 energy weapons. But engine power… Whoo!"

Many of the Huskies voiced their agreement. The greatest merit of the Kodiak was it's unbelievable engine power, giving a fantastic top speed and a terrifying rate of acceleration. The two big engines allowed the craft to pull through even the toughest of natural weather conditions, as well as the ability to get straight into a fight, or tear away so fast no ship could give chase. Still, as good as the new fighters were, Bill had found it a little hard saying goodbye to the old Greendawg. He did manage to buy the ship from the Defence Force, but her weapons had to be stripped down. It was now in storage in the main hangar facility.

"So, your thoughts Mr. Halbert?"

The Cornerian technician looked up from his notes. "Well, your opinions are duly noted. I don't know how well we'll be able to do a shield generator, as Captain Jackson pointed out the power generator is under enough stress as it is. Still, we'll try. I must commend you on your flying today. You all pulled moves even we didn't think the Kodiak was capable of before today."

Every member of Husky Squadron beamed with pride. Bill savoured the moment, then stood.

"Well if that's all you're all dismissed. Thankyou for your time. Oh, Except Captain Jackson, Lieutenant Bastion and Lieutenant Leahy. That is all."

The other members of Husky squadron stood and filed out of the briefing room, babbling excitedly about their new fighters and the stunts they had managed to perform the day. Even their newest pilot, Husky Six, was using his paws to illustrate a miraculous four-stage evasion maneuver he had managed to pull, fooling Lieutenant Francine Bastion for a moment during the dogfights.

Once the Cornerian technician and the flight controllers had also departed, Lieutenant Leahy spoke up.

"What's up, Commander?"

"We're at peace now Wally, just call me Bill when the kids aren't hanging around." Bill replied, gesturing out the open doorway.

"Sure, well, why the meeting? What's up?"

Bill hadn't really thought about what he wanted to say, but it came out all right anyway. "Well… do you notice that the sudden change in heart within the government, about defence spending, was… I dunno, a little too sudden, with too little reason?"

Perry nodded, as if the same thing had been bothering him. "Yeah, they're really clammed up about it too. It's almost… Almost like they're afraid of something."

Bill nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Fran? Wally? Your thoughts?"

"I got a bad feeling about this. I think Perry's right, something's lurking around the corner, and the government is trying to keep it quiet. I got no idea what to be afraid of though." Francine replied.

"Hey, you guys have never respected my opinion, but I'll give it anyway." Wally said. "I think we're gonna see war."

The briefing room was deadly silent for a moment.

"That's pretty extreme, Wal." Muttered Perry. "Still it's a possibility. Against who, though, I wouldn't have a clue. Bill, have you asked General Rathcoat yet?"

"Yeah…" Bill said reluctantly. "But he said he didn't know what I was talking about, and that I should be happy that we got the Kodiaks at all. I'm gonna call General Pepper tonight. He's a tad friendlier."

"Well I hope he proves me wrong." Wally shook his head. "War might have made small heroes of us, but last time it made posthumous heroes of too many of my friends. Never again."


	7. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

General Pepper regarded the face on his monitor gravely. Commander Grey was a trusted friend, yet he was not permitted to release any of the information Bill sought.

"Come on, General, we know something's up. Don't make me waste the cash on this interplanetary call now."

Pepper slowly nodded. "It doesn't take much to see through it. But I'm sorry. I just can't disclose anything at all."

Bill sagged. "C'mon Jon, if it's coming for sure, at least we'll be better prepared. I…"

Suddenly, General Pepper's office door flew open. "General!!!" Pepper's leopard aide rushed in and saluted.

"What's that?" Asked Bill.

"Looks like trouble. We will have to talk some other time."

Bill sighed. "Understood General." Then he hung up.

Pepper looked up at his aide. "Now what seems to be the problem?"

"Communications from Venom…"

"Yes?"

"Well, we've lost them."

One minute later General Pepper was sitting at his console overlooking the situation room, the same one he had used in the war with Andross. Activity had increased threefold since he had last been in two hours ago, with sensor operators, communications officers and technicians milling around chaotically. Most of the communications officers were trying to contact bases or Navy vessels near Venom. No communications came back.

"Incoming message from Orbital Base Alpha Central, directed to General Pepper." One of the officers looked up from her console. Pepper signaled for her to put the message through.

A Puma's face filled Pepper's personal holographics display. "General, are you getting any communications from Venom?"

"No. I take it you've noticed the communications loss, Admiral."

"'Noticed'? We've lost all contact with the _Vigilant, _the _Redoubt_ and the _Freedom_, not to mention around 15 smaller ships! What's going on?!" Admiral Verenski lowered his voice. "Anything to do with our 'mystery fleet'?"

Pepper heaved a deep breath. "I fear that may be the case. There's a unit from Macbeth en route to check it out. All scanner sweeps are being jammed, so it'll have to be a visual check. And I'm giving the Star Fox team notice of a possible job in the near future."

The Admiral nodded to someone behind him. "The fleet is on yellow alert…. Wait a second." He turned away from the camera again to confer with an excited sounding communications officer. "We have a communication! From a flight of starfighters leaving the Jamming zone around Venom."

Pepper was up standing. "Relay it to here." He pressed a few buttons on his console and brought the communication up on the main screen for all to see. Navy Command was already replying.

"… Go ahead Scorpion Lead. What's the situation?"

The main screen showed little else but shapes moving in static. "… VERY BAD … contact with CDF Forces… orbit… losing you…"

Pepper heard Admiral Verenski ordering relay satellites to new positions to boost the signal.

"… That's better, signal lock." The transmission cleared up, showing a beaver and the background of an LF-220 cockpit. Smoke could be seen wafting around above the pilot's head. "The situation on Venom is irrecoverable. A huge armada skipped in on warp drives, they began pounding the planet right away. 50% of the surface batteries were wiped out in the first five minutes. My squadron was one of the first scrambled."

"What's our fleet status?"

"The starfighters on patrol were wiped out. Of the 3 squadrons that were scrambled, I think we're the only survivors. Myself, two others from my squadron and one from Talon Squadron. They trapped most of the fleet using some sort of anti-warp technology, so we couldn't warp out. The _Redoubt _took most of the firepower from the enemy fleet. She's gone. _Vigilant _and _Freedom_ regrouped with the destroyers and frigates, holding them off as long as they could, but there were too many of 'em. _Vigilant_ blew pretty quickly, _Freedom_ was taken down by seven enemy cruisers. She crashed planetside. I wouldn't expect survivors from any of 'em."

Admiral Verenski roared in anger.

"We barely got out ourselves, I've lost a wing, Scorpion Three's having engine trouble. Our range is limited to around halfway to Macbeth. Last we saw of Venom, hundreds of invasion ships were dropping in."

Verenski regained composure immediately. "Get the 4th Fleet over there now! Tell them to pick those fighters up ASAP. Transmit a fleetwide Red Alert. Move the 11th Fleet to Macbeth and the 5th Fleet to Titania…"

General Pepper started issuing orders too. "Mobilize every army, guard and militia unit we have _anywhere_. Put all squadrons on Red Alert, notify our allies…"

The words came forth as crisp and as professional as one would expect from a General. They were the same words he had barked out seven years ago when he had heard of Andross's moves.

_It's happening again…_

_Again, after seven short years of peace…_

_We're back where we started._

"Well, at least this solves the issue of our mystery fleet. So much for 'not worrying the public'. Why didn't we see this attack coming?"

"I don't know General." Verenski was quiet a moment. "It's like our intelligence agencies have completely proven ineffective."

Pepper nodded. "They never recommended we call Starfox to scout. Commander Pontac said it was a bad idea, but I was going call today anyway."

"Does the invasion change that?"

"No. But they won't be going on a scouting mission anymore."


	8. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

Bill went back to organizing quartermaster requests after hanging up. He was getting a trifle frustrated, and more than a trifle worried. What in the world could have been the problem? 

_Not much I can do about it right now. Let's see, we need two new helmets, a replacement hydraulic drive for Keeler's landing gear…_

He glanced at a dead appliance next to his office door. 

_A new fridge…_

"Bill! Hey!" 

"Perry!, take a seat." Bill gestured at a chair beside his desk. 

"So what'd the General say?" 

"Nothing." Bill returned to his work. 

"Nothing?!" Perry shook his head in disbelief. "Now I know something's up. You wanna raid Rathcoat's office?" 

"Not this time, buddy." Bill said warningly. "How's the rookie doing?" 

"He's still sub par, but improving. A few more days in simulator and live runs and he'll be flying like a real Husky." 

"Hmm Good." Bill traced through the rest of his requests. "Perry, have you heard from Old Ken lately?" 

"Nah. Last time I saw him was at the reunion last year." Perry was, of course, referring to the meeting between all the members of Husky Squadron who had fought in the Battle of Katina many years ago. Sticks had been there too, since Husky was his first squadron, with Fang being his first command. 

"Ah well. I could sure use some advice with this whole mysterious secret the Top Brass are keeping. He must have it easy with that new spaceliner job." 

"Mind if I join the seniors club?" Francine stood at the door. Seniors was something of an exaggeration, since none of them was above thirty, but the three of them, plus Wallace, were the oldest members of the squadron, and the only veterans from the war with Andross still with Husky. 

"Sure Fran. What's bothering you?" 

"Nothing." The white fox shrugged. "But the kids are more comfortable without me, and I'm more comfortable with you guys. Have you requested that new fridge yet?" 

Bill turned back to his computer. "Almost. Just gotta send this requisition." He hit a button and the words "Requisition Sent" flashed up on screen. Then his computer beeped. 

"That's one heck of a reply time!" Francine exclaimed. 

"No." Bill frowned. "It's from Starfighter Command, direct from General Rathcoat." 

"What's it say?" asked Perry. 

Bill kept silent as he read it, then remained silent for a moment afterwards. 

"It says to get our things together and packed in case of immediate deployment, and to ensure our fighters are fueled and pilots combat ready. Everyone has to be in the briefing room for an announcement within two hours." 

Perry's jaw hung slack. Francine asked "What? We're being re-deployed?" 

"Not just us." Bill replied. "It's a general mobilization order. Francine, get all the Huskies into the briefing room, and Perry, get everyone from Fang, Bulldog and Demon in there too. Looks like we're going to war." 


	9. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"No no no NO NO!!!" Wally's yells could be heard echoing down the halls of Husky Squadron's quarters. "Why the hell do I always have to be right?!?!"

"Dammit Wal, I know! Shut up already!" Francine slapped the back of Wally's head.

But the Meerkat just kept on yelling. "This is a joke right? PLEASE TELL ME IT'S A JOKE!!!"

"For fuck's sake Wal, SHUT UP! You're scaring the kids!"

Indeed, the younger members of Husky Squadron were eyeing Wally nervously, and the vile looks he was giving all of them did not help. None of them had seen how well he had reacted to life on deployment in the last war.

"That's right young'uns! I've lost it! I've completely flipped!" He flung his arms up in frustration. "I hope you're ready! You'd better be good fliers! We're going to war! WHOOP!" He mimed throwing an object in the air, then imitated the sound of an explosion. "That's right…" He muttered, "You've never been there. I guess you'll see…" He walked into the briefing room, shaking his head.

"Everyone here?"

The four squadrons under Bill Grey's command, all based at Katina City Starfighter Base, were ready and waiting in the base's main briefing hall.

"Sir, all present and accounted for."

"Right." Bill took a deep breath. These would be hard words for his pilots to hear, and even harder words for him to say. " Listen up everyone. The rumors are true. We are going to war."

Groans and murmurs rippled through the hall.

_I know how you feel, guys._ "Quiet. In two minutes we'll be receiving a general announcement from High Command. Following that you'll have one day to finish squaring away your things and tying up loose ends with relatives and friends. You'll report back here at 1900 hours tomorrow to get deployment orders. Extra fuel and droptanks are being shipped in as I speak, so we'll be flying ourselves to wherever we're going. To Fang and Demon squadrons; I'm sorry but you won't be receiving your new fighters beforehand. They'll be delivered to our deployment, wherever that may be. Leave is permitted overnight, but anyone not here at 1900 hours tomorrow will be considered AWOL and be thrown in the brig when found, or worse. Now we're just waiting on the transmission."

Side talk resumed, quieter, but more solemn, more reasoned. Some were complaining about having just the one day to get set. Others simply asked each other what the hell they were doing there. Bill shook his head. Times were going to get a lot worse than this.

A minute later, the base's communications room picked up a transmission that was forwarded to the briefing room projector.

A hologram of General Rathcoat's somber face materialized before the assembled pilots.

"This is an address to the Armed Forces of Katina.

Barely one hour ago, an unknown invader descended upon Venom, destroying the Cornerian flotilla stationed there, and to the best of our knowledge is probably overrunning Cornerian Bases and strongpoints on the planet's surface at this moment.

All communications with Venom have been lost and deepest concern is held for its citizens and the soldiers stationed there.

The death toll of the space battle alone is estimated at around 5700 Cornerians and 200 Katinians, due to the loss of our destroyer stationed there, the _Emerald City_.

We must act now to halt this threat before it advances further. The Cornerians are already moving to blockade Venom space and we will assist. Fortuna has promised aid and Macbeth is initiating defensive measures.

Together we can shatter this foe before it claims any of our planets. Good luck to all of you."

The transmission ended and the briefing hall erupted in an uproar.

"QUIET!" Bill shouted. "You have your orders. I expect to see you all here tomorrow at 1900 hours. Dismissed!"


	10. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Dear Mary,_

_You might be wondering why I wrote a letter to you. Well, it's because letters get by the war censors faster and because handwritten letters are so much more traditional and romantic. Don't worry, a videorecording from me should get to you once those censors are done with it. By now you must have heard of the events on Venom. As far as we know (and as far as I can tell you) it's been invaded by an unknown hostile force. Gods, I hope Pete and Jane are all right. So with that, Katina declared war soon after. Baby I wish this didn't have to happen. I've seen too much of it already, all this fighting. To think I thought it was over with._

_Damn, I wish I could see you. I wish I could hold you again and we could spend one more night together, back there, back home on Corneria. But we're shipping out in one day and I just can't do it. I will miss you so much._

_I'm sorry. I should have quit when you told me to. I should have taken that easy job as a private pilot. But now I'm in too deep, and the team needs me._

_Boy if you could see the team now. Eight kids you never met, all raring to go and get their first taste of action, like little Polly back during the first war._

_Of course Fran, Wally and I are about as happy as a sleetwing on Solar. We're too experienced to look at this with nothing other than frustration, cynicism, and in the end a certain resignation to do our duty._

_Bill though is about as angry as they come right now. He's not showing it, but you can see it in his eyes. You can hear it in his voice. Alone, in his office, managing four mostly inexperienced squadrons about to engage in a full-scale war, he looks around twenty years older than he actually is, tired, disheveled and mad as they come. Though of course, like I said, he tries not to show it._

_I don't know when we'll meet again. I really hope the war is over quickly._

_You remember the last time, when I wrote saying I might not see you again and all that stuff?  
I don't think you need to hear it again. You're ready for it as I am. You've grown so strong._

_I will miss you so much._

_Love,_

_Perry_

"Perry, am I intruding?" Bill's head poked into the room.

"No, not at all." Perry hastily tucked the letter into an old-fashioned envelope and set about writing an address on the front.

"Good old fashioned snail-mail." Said Bill. "If you want it sent off you'd better hurry. The next cargo ship to Corneria goes soon."

"Nah, it can wait a little. I'll just drop it in with the quartermasters later." Perry put down his pen; an ancient implement sporting a gold tip, on which was embedded a hologram of him with his wife, Mary.

Bill glanced at the letter and smiled. "You're so lucky to have a girl like her, y'know, sticking by your side even though you only ever see her once a week at most."

"That's why I love her." Perry sealed the envelope and glanced at Bill.

_Gods, look at him! He's not Bill. The Bill I knew was 27 years old, full of energy and longing for a chance to pull G's. Bill, what are you doing to yourself?_

"Bill, aren't you going for some last R&R before our deployment tomorrow? You look like shit." 

Bill put on a wry look, softening the haggard expression he had been wearing. "Hey, I got responsibility to the Wing, Perry. I got some admin to do." He leveled a finger at his friend. "I don't see you getting out tonight." 

"That's because I haven't been on the job all day, every day for the last week. You look as though you've already fought the whole war yourself when we're just a day into it. 

"I'll tell you what Bill, I'll handle your Admin duties. I am your XO after all. You can go and hit the town tonight." 

"Aw, Perry, you don't have to do that…"  
"You're not fooling anyone. Bill, you work too hard. Everyone knows that. I may as well start pulling my own weight. After all, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere since I was just in town yesterday. You go on and have some fun. I'll hold down the base, and your duties tonight. Get out of here." 

Bill looked like he was trying to formulate an argument for a moment, but he smiled and slapped Perry on the back. "You're right. You're a real pal, Perry, I owe you one." 

"Go on, get outta here." Perry grinned. "The squadron doesn't need you to burn out before we even hit the cockpits." 

"Thanks." Bill gave Perry a thumbs-up and left. 


	11. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Two days later…

Admiral Burton Hendrix stared out into the starfield from the bridge of the new Katinian carrier, the _Archangel._ She was the largest ship in the fleet, being the only fleet carrier in the Katinian Navy. She sported light defensive armament, a bridge at the rear of the vessel and a long, flat launch deck on top of the hangars.

She was also the only capital ship in the Navy completely designed and built in Katina; all the others were bought or 'acquired used' from the Cornerians.

Hendrix had just been promoted to Admiral when the catastrophic events heralding the beginning of the War took place. In the space of a day, he'd packed most of what he needed and said goodbye to his wife and children on Katina. The Archangel was to lead two escort carriers, four battleships, four battlecruisers, eight destroyers, eight frigates and two tenders, plus twelve freighters worth of military supplies to Macbeth. The fleet would leave behind the freighters, a battleship and two frigates, then continue on to Sector Z and await further orders.

"Sir, we read eight squadrons of fighters incoming. ID shows mostly LF-220, F-90, B-14 or F-155 fighters." The sensor operator glanced back at Admiral Hendrix. "That'd be our compliment."

"Transmission received." Said the Communications officer. "3rd Tactical fighter wing and 1st Tactical bomber wing are inbound and requesting landing clearance."

The Admiral glanced out the bridge windows, seeing the multitude of moving specks that were to be the Carrier's fighter compliment.

"Tell Commander Grey and Commander Warren to line their squadrons up on the approach vector we give them. Flight control…"

"Already on it sir." The flight control officer pressed a few keys. "Approach vector set. They should be receiving it on their navigation consoles now."

"Tell them the 3rd Tactical goes in bays 1 through to 48. the 1st lands in bays 49 through to 96. Squadron order is entirely up to them."

"Yessir."

Bill's fighter locked down as it landed on the yellow square assigned to it. A couple of thuds confirmed that his ship was secured to the carrier and was properly aligned.

"_Archangel _bridge, This is Husky leader, landed and locked."

"Confirmed. Remain in your ship until you are securely in the hangar."

The _Archangel_ was revolutionary in that it did not make use of a long launch tunnel to accelerate the fighters to a good speed, but rather the deck space assigned to each fighter had a repeller built into it, allowing the entire fighter compliment to launch at once, if the need arose.

The small square of deck space assigned to Bill's fighter began to lower into the hangar areas. The repeller plates used to launch the fighters doubled as elevators when taking the fighters back into the hangar deck for storage. Bill watched a glow wash over his ship as it passed through the atmosphere containment field. When the elevator had finished lowering his fighter, a blast door closed above, filling the hole left by the lowering deck. Finally, the atmosphere containment field was shut off and Bill began unbuckling his seatbelt. Once loose, Bill pressed a button on the side of his cockpit and the canopy retracted.

Bill vaulted out of his cockpit and looked around. Maintenance workers were already rushing to his ship. Around him, other elevators were lowering the rest of his squadron into the hangar. A PA system was issuing orders to all aboard the ship and the sound of fighter engines powering down added to the cacophony of sounds filling the vast hangar.

"Welcome aboard sir." A short female squirrel ran up to him and saluted. "I'm Ensign Reeber. Please follow me."

Bill returned the salute. "Just a second. My things…" Bill said, pointing back at his cockpit.

"We'll take those to your room, sir. But Admiral Hendrix would like to see you and Commander Warren now."

"All right. Show me the way then."

As it happened, Ensign Reeber didn't know the way. She took Bill to the cafeteria, then past the reactor room ('Don't look at me, I only got assigned to the ship three days ago'), but they finally ended up on the bridge. Admiral Hendrix and Commander Warren were waiting.

"Commander Grey, good of you to _finally_ join us."

"Sorry sir. We took a wrong turn."

Hendrix dismissed it with a wave of his paw. "Not to worry. I've received our orders, they're available in detail in your quarters. The short story is that we're locking down Sector Z, to make sure none of the hostiles slip through that way."

"Right." Commander Warren replied. "So what exactly are we up against?"

"Don't really know. From the accounts of survivors from Venom, they've got weird ships, unlike what we're used to."

"Descriptive." Said Bill.

"Yes, well nothing I can do about that." Replied the Admiral. "So how are your pilots gentlemen? Ready for the battles ahead?"

"More or less. I've got a few without any combat experience at all, but they'll hold up fine." Stated Bill. Matt Keeler's face flashed through Bill's mind as he remembered the rookie pilot's antics only days before.

"Mostly yes, but Lightning squadron is very green. They'll need to buddy up with our most experienced squadrons before we can do anything solo with them." Added Commander Warren.

"Good." The Admiral stared out at the stars again. A holographic display had highlighted one of them blue. "That's Macbeth. We're one day's travel from there. You pilots sure flew a long way from Katina, and I know 36-hour flights in a cramped cockpit are no fun. Tell your squadrons to get some exercise then some rest. That's all, dismissed."

_It could be worse._ Thought Bill.

His quarters were barely enough to stretch in. The roof was only four inches above Bill's head, the bed occupied a quarter of the floor space (and it was a tiny bed) and the only other furnishings were a chair, a desk with a computer terminal and a small wardrobe.

_Still, everyone below the rank of Lieutenant have to share their rooms with three others. Ouch._

Suddenly there was a lurch and the whole ship shuddered, before everything went smooth again. The _Archangel_ had just skipped into warp-space.

Matt Keeler threw his belongings into the small cargo space assigned to him. He was a golden Labrador who had graduated from the new KDF academy a mere month before the war started. As the youngest pilot in Husky, he was also the greenest, and he had no delusions that he'd end up being a hero. He had learned from endless simulator runs that if he tried heroics he'd probably end up dead.

The room was the kind used by common pilots with no commanding rank. It had four bunks set into the metal walls, and some cargo boxes for pilots to store their junk.

The other three pilots in the room were Husky Three, Husky Five and Husky Seven.

Don Mossini was Husky three, a humorous jackrabbit who had been the one to coin the phrase 'Look boys, he think's he's good!' He was best friends with Husky Four, Benny swipes. Benny was a Falcon, a sterling pilot, almost as good as Bill. He wasn't arrogant about it either.

Husky Seven was the one person in the squadron Matt couldn't remember the name of. He'd been around a while, apparently, though not as long as Bill and his veterans, yet no-one ever talked about him, and Matt had never actually spoken to him in person.

"Hey, Seven, What's your name, I don't think we've been introduced."

The creature looked back at him, and Matt realized he wasn't even sure what species this individual was. "Blaze Walters." He replied shortly, shaking Matt's hand. Then he closed his cargo box then walked out.

Matt Blinked. "What's with him?"

"Don't bother." Said Don. "You won't get more than a few words out of him. He's a mysterious bastard, that Blaze."

"Well what do you know about him?" Asked Matt.

Don reached for a cigar. "Well, he joined up around 2 years ago, that puts him now at around 20-25, from the way he looks, which mind you doesn't give away much about him at all.

"He don't talk to no-one, 'cept when it's necessary. What's the most we've gotten out of him, Benny?"

Then Don and Benny put on extremely stern faces and said in unison "If you two don't shut up then I'll fucking grace your mouths with my fist!" The duo laughed a moment, then Don sat down on his bunk. "No, seriously, the only ones who that Blaze ever talks to are Commander Grey and Lieutenant Bastion. And they won't tell you much about him either. I'm going to the smoking room." Then he hopped up and left the room. Benny checked his watch and a look of surprise crossed his face. "I forgot! I'm meeting Commander Grey now! Gotta go!" And he tore out of the room too. Now Matt was all alone. He decided to check his bunk.

Matt's bunk was on top of Blaze's, so he had to ascend a step to reach it. He threw aside the small curtain that provided darkness and privacy, looked down on the bunk and saw something that appeared to be a deflated balloon. In a split second it self-inflated and assumed the form of a naked female canine.

Matt's jaw dropped in astonishment, recognition and horror. At that moment Don walked back in and took a photo, then dashed off laughing hysterically. Matt heard Benny outside, laughing as well, asking "Did you get him? What'd he look like?"

Matt stood frozen on the ladder for a moment, caught between stuffing away the 'adult's toy' and giving immediate chase to the two pranksters. At that moment, Commander Grey stuck his head through the doorway with a funny look on his face. "Uh oh."

"Sir!" Matt twisted, fell off the step, landed face first on the floor, then stood up. "I can explain that!" He said, gesturing at his bunk.

"No worries." Said the commander, smiling. "Looks like the dynamic duo have struck again. Get back to me sometime when we're on R&R. I'll show you the album."

Keeler was dumbstruck.

"I said don't worry about it Keeler." Bill pointed at the inflatable canine. "But get rid of it." Then he walked off.

Keeler snorted. He grabbed the balloon, then crammed it into Mossini's unlocked cargo box.


	12. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Commodore, I'm picking up strange sensor readings."

Commodore Doberman of the battleship _Juggernaut_ strode over to the sensor officer. "Yes?"

Suddenly the pitch of her voice rose half an octave. "It's a warp field! I'm reading 20… no 30 ships entering the system, 12 of them Battlecruiser class or better! They're broadcasting as Hostile! They outnumber us two to one!"

Doberman shot a glance out the bridge viewport. The tiny specks highlighted and circled up by the computer were still distant, but the datafeed next to each target showed each one was coming on fast and powering up weapons.

"Weapons, charge our forward batteries. Don't open fire until we can score a good hit with a full power shot. Navigation, what's our situation if we have to run for it?"

The Nav officer shook his head. "No. With Titania behind us and that fleet ahead, we're trapped in Titania's gravity field. We can't warp out unless we break past that fleet first."

Doberman gritted his teeth. This would be a tough one. With the 5th fleet not arriving for another two hours, he was effectively fighting this entire invasion force on his own.

"Communications, contact Corneria, ask for any help they can give us."

At that moment, the enemy fleet opened fire from maximum range. Most of the shots passed harmlessly by, and those that hit did little damage.

"Arm missile batteries one and two." Said Doberman. _I wonder why they're taking such great measures to capture Titania? There's nothing down there but dust and ruins._

"Enemy ships are standing off, sir. They're continuing to fire at maximum range."

This was something new. If they had a siege in mind, they'd be in for a surprise when the other fleets got to Titania.

"Sir, message from High Command. The Starfox team is being redirected to here. They're changing course from Macbeth to get to us."

Doberman almost cheered. Unless the enemy fleets wizened up and drove on home, all he had to do was keep his ships intact until help arrived.

"Return maximum range fire. Hold our missiles unless they get closer. Communications, order all our fighters and bombers to return to the _Merdom Watcher_. Don't engage the enemy fleet unless it moves aggressively."

Even as he gave the orders, though, Doberman had a feeling that something else was coming into play. No commander would be so ignorant as the one standing off just above Titania's rings, simply waiting for trouble to come.

"Communications, order the _Merdom Watcher_ to launch high-speed probes along the routes the 5th fleet and the Starfox team are using to get here. Also cease firing on Laser batteries two and three so we can boost power to scanners. I want everything around this planet scanned for additional ships, any sign of a cloaking field at all, or whatever other traps might be lurking around."

"Smell something, sir?"

"Oh yeah." Doberman peered into the stars. Whatever they had planned, his people would find it.

Across several hundred miles of space, another Commodore was smiling to himself as his fleet fired away at the Cornerians from a safe distance. The Cornerians had not moved towards his superior fleet, just as planned.

One of his bridge crew addressed him. "Sir, detecting probe launches from their escort carrier. Wait… A battleship has commenced high-power scanning."

So the creature across the battlefield from him was as canny as he was. Not that it mattered. Everything was still going to plan. This battle would be over soon.

"Sir, our second probe has been picked up by the 5th fleet. Nothing but the usual debris, space creatures and merchant traffic on their route."

Doberman nodded to the Communications officer. A quarter of an hour ago, the first probe had been picked up by the Starfox team, with similar results. The scanner sweeps had come up with nothing, and the first set of reinforcements, the _Great Fox_ and three state-of-the art Arwings, would arrive shortly. Perhaps the opposing commander was more foolish than he thought.

Suddenly a great, sleek ship skipped out of warp-space just above Titania's horizon. It immediately launched three fighters and began forming up with his fleet. Two other Cornerian Battleships left warp space in its wake.

"The _Great Fox._"Doberman smiled. "Communications, order the _Great Fox_ to fall in beside us. Bring the Arwings to the front and launch our fighters to back them up. Redirect power to engines from scanners. This ship and the _Great Fox_ will be the spearhead of an assault on their flank, there. We'll do a Forbes maneuver. This ship and the _Great Fox _might absorb some damage while the rest of the fleet gets into position, but the Arwings should cause enough havoc to buy us time."

"Sensors detect warp field materializing!"

"Enemy reinforcements from Venom? How'd they time that with our team?"

"No, it's an exit warp! Enemy fleet skipping out! 10, 3, no more enemy ships remaining! Repeat, zero enemy ships remaining!"

Doberman thought frantically, running a paw through his hair. Several silent seconds passed. Nothing happened. The arrival of Starfox would not have been enough to spook them. They hadn't even started fighting yet.

Then his gut went cold. He had been able to communicate without difficulty with Corneria. He had received transmissions from the Starfox Team and the 5th Fleet. There was no jamming like what had happened at Venom. The enemy had _wanted_ him to communicate. To draw forces to Titania.

_But why?_ He thought. _No traps here, no weapons of mass destruction, no hidden fleets. Nothing between here and the 5th fleet but unarmed merchant vessels, nothing between here and Macbeth but unarmed merchant vessels, the safe arrival of Starfox bears testament to that…_

Doberman froze.

_MACBETH!!!_

Possibilities began running off in his mind. The enemy fleet had been staying away from Titania's gravitational field. Communications were allowed with Corneria. Merchant vessels lay on a path between Macbeth and Titania, despite the fact that it was a war-zone and was supposed to be only traversed by Military vessels.

"By the gods! Anti-warp technology!"

"Excuse me, sir?"

Doberman quickly regained his composure. "What vector was their warp-skip on?"

There was a slight pause from the sensor officer as realization set in. "Directly for Macbeth."

Doberman was already striding back to face his communications officer. "Issue an order to the _Great Fox, _the _Invincible,_ the _Victory _and the _Merdom Watcher._ Have all of them warp immediately for Macbeth, full warp power! We can't lose any time!"

Somewhere between Macbeth and Titania, three freighters dispensed thousands of small orbs into deep space, each a tiny part of an extensive comms jamming and counter-warp network that would drag any ships passing by out of warp-space. Their mission completed, the trio of ships engaged their warp-drives and skipped out. Not long afterwards, a massive fleet of warships which had just left Titania passed by in warp-space. The flagship transmitted a signal to all the orbs in the area once it had safely passed.

In an instant a massive web of anti-warp fields activated, just in time to halt a smaller Cornerian fleet giving chase. Fighters launched, lasers flashed in every direction, the tiny orbs were being destroyed in their masses.

But their sheer numbers and elusive size meant that even with the full firepower of this fleet, it would be another couple of precious hours before they could set off again.

A couple hours too late.


	13. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The dazzling spectacle of warp-space bathed the bridge of the _Archangel _in a series of cascading colours and highlights, reflecting off the finely polished white floors and bulkheads. Admiral Hendrix never got tired of it.

"Sir, twenty seconds until we reach Macbeth." Said the navigations officer.

"Very well. Commence warp-drive shutdown."

"Leaving warp-space in 12, 11, 10, 9…"

The ship was suddenly jolted out of warp-space prematurely. Ahead, Macbeth was still a tiny speck.

"Navigations, what is the meaning of this?"

The young officer looked dumbfounded. "I don't know sir. Warp engine readings are normal, but we just can't enter warp-space. There's some sort of a field blocking us."

Something at the corner of Hendrix's sight caught his attention. A few tiny flashes illuminated the skies above Macbeth, followed by what was clearly a large explosion. Hendrix swore. The enemy was advancing far faster than _anyone_ had expected.

"We're picking up some jamming coming from the planet. At this distance it's not severe, but we won't be getting any transmissions from Macbeth."

"Sensors detect a fleet of starships around the planet. Another fleet has just arrived, entry vector suggests they came from Titania." That was Warton, the sensor officer. He was a toad, and was actually an old student of Admiral Hendrix's, back when peace was normal and you only joined the CDF academy because it was a way to get free studies.

"Friendlies?" Asked Hendrix.

Warton shook his head.

"Launch all fighters!" Hendrix shouted. "Order the other ships in our fleet to form a defensive sphere around the _Archangel_. Tell them once we're in the heaviest of that jamming we'll communicate using the ship lights in flash code."

"Enemy fleet approaching, they outnumber us roughly three to one, sir." Said the sensor officer.

"Well we're just going to have to be a lot better than them." Replied the Admiral. "Inform High Command of the situation here, Communications." He strode to the bridge viewports and watched as fighters were elevated to their place on the launch deck. To his left and right, the battleships of his fleet closed in a protective formation, effectively shielding the carrier from enemy fire coming from the front.

The flight control officer pressed three buttons on his console. "Husky squadron, you are cleared for launch."

"Husky two, all systems ready."

"Husky three, all systems go."

"Husky four, all systems go."

Bill tapped his headset. "All flights report."

"Flight two is all go." Said Francine.

"Flight three is ready for action." Added Wally.

"Flight Control, Husky squadron is go for launch."

Bill glanced back at the bridge. A flurry of activity could be seen despite the intervening distance. "Husky Squadron, you are cleared for launch."

The twelve fighters of Husky Squadron pivoted towards the front of the ship, facing the flat, bare deck space that would normally be launching the other squadrons on the carrier. But with Husky Squadron being the only one fueled and ready, the entire deck was clear except for Bill and his fighters.

A small countdown timer appeared on Bill's HUD. He put his paw on the thrust control as it neared zero.

Once it did, he shoved the throttle full forward and applied a boost, which worked hand-in-paw with the accelerators on the deck. The carrier's deck disappeared from beneath him and was quickly receding from view to his rear. In less than a second his fighter had attained terrific speed, jetting towards Macbeth far faster than what was normally the upper limit for non-warp flight. The extra boost from the carrier wouldn't wear off until they got to Macbeth. In the meantime, Bill could formulate a plan.

Scanners were proving faulty at the distance they were at, and coupled with the jamming they could ascertain little about the enemy forces, except for the fact that there were a lot of them. Bill checked his range from the battle at just under 100,000 km, which meant his squadron would enter the heaviest of comm jamming soon.

"Squadron, expect comm blackout in one minute, contact in around two. I want all ships to loop around the planet and use its gravity to accelerate us. I want nova bombs on their communications ships once in range so that we can stop that jamming. I estimate three, maybe four of them so split by flights, One flight will take the nearest once we're around the planet, Two flight will nail the next on from that and three will get the next one. If we can't get'em all in the first pass, disengage cruise mode, switch over to combat mode and engage conventionally. Priority one are the jammer ships, priority two are the fighters. All fighters, understood?"

Affirmatives came across the static-ridden comm. Bill noticed several new sensor readings from the fleet.

"Guys, looks like Fang Squadron has just launched. We want that battle to be safer on them, so knock out as many ships as possible." Bill got the replies again, but this time the static was much worse. _We're in it now. Time to see if the new squadron's up to the task._

His sensors were running almost blind- although they were a lot closer to the enemy fleet now, the intense jamming was hampering his dectector system. _With the jamming that bad they must have some sort of new technology out there. Better watch out._

As Macbeth loomed before his squadron, Bill pulled up and to the left. This put him in a shallow, elliptical orbit, designed to build speed and allow him to cut straight into the heart of the enemy fleet, hazardous as that was. The rest of the squadron followed, assuming a spearhead formation that would give maximum frontal firepower. Below, on Macbeth, massive explosions that looked like pinpricks of light from space, gave testament to the ferocity of the land battle taking place.

Bill glanced at his scanners again. Now nothing could be detected but the jamming. This did however prove useful in one sense; it allowed him to pinpoint the sources of the jamming. His computer had already locked onto the three jamming ships, now all he needed to do was get within firing range. There were few enough of them to be wiped out in the first pass.

_Almost there…_

A fleet of ships came into view as Husky squadron finally shot around Macbeth. Beams of energy and missiles were being fired off at some unseen fleet beyond Macbeth's horizon. Bill's squadron streaked in at the enemy fleet from its rear, the three offending scanner ships right in the middle.

_One flight goes for the one nearest._

Range closed rapidly, firing solution would come around in twelve seconds. Bill armed hardpoints seven and eight. He expected the other three pilots in his flight to do the same, bringing the total to a formidable eight nova bombs per enemy jammer ship.

Six seconds left. Some laser fire came in towards Husky Squadron, with the enemy belatedly realizing that a threat was coming in from the rear. Bill's group passed the outer picket ships of the enemy fleet.

A consistent ring filled Bill's headset and he launched the two nova bombs. From the all around him, more pairs of nova bombs flew out at their targets, and Bill began veering away from the enemy jammer ships.

Dozens of massive explosions tore into the each of the enemy ships' shields, then broke through, ripping through compartments and bulkheads, incinerating the equipment and beings inside, rampaging through the stricken vessels until they reached the core.

Then one last powerful, all-consuming explosion blasted each jammer ship into oblivion.

Suddenly communications were clear, and shouts of victory managed to get through.

Bill glanced again at his sensor board. Now perfectly functional, he could make out the extent of the enemy fleet.

From what he could tell, it was extensive. His whole board showed red blips, with an occasional region of empty space every here and there. Some of those blips were moving faster than the others- fighters obviously.

And they were all moving towards him.

"Jamming has ceased!" Yelled sensor officer Warton. "More accurate numbers on enemy fleet, they actually outnumber us 5 to one! We're picking up distress signals, looks like they annihilated our defence fleet!"

Hendrix blinked in amazement. "Communications, see if you can contact any Macbeth base, or any friendly starships out there."

"Hold on, sir." Flap, the bat in charge of communications began speaking into his headset. From what Hendrix could hear, he had managed to raise at least one base. He looked back at the admiral.

"Sir, most of the fleet has already pulled back. Only a battleship and two destroyers are left here, and they're being ripped to shreds. They've got seventy-two escape pods out there… wait."

"What?"

"Dammit, the enemy's firing on the escape pods. I wouldn't expect any of them to make it through."

The members of the bridge crew gaped in disbelief.

"They've got fewer than twenty starfighters still operational. On the ground only Macbeth Central surface base still hasn't been overrun. I'm patching them through now."

Hendrix nodded and stared at the viewport. Soon a holoimage of a bulldog appeared over the starfield.

"Brigadier Cheltenham!"

The bulldog looked grim and resigned. Explosions and smallarms fire could be heard in the background.

"Admiral Hendrix, good of you to come, but I'm afraid this battle is lost. They've overrun most of our bases, and our armies are being scattered into tiny guerilla units. As we speak…" Cheltenham glanced at something off-screen. "The enemy is advancing past our final lines of defence. They've taken the hangars and launch facilities, our sensor dome has been hit, and now they are entering this very building. Leave now, before you get wiped out too."

"Cheltenham, who are 'they'?"

The bulldog signaled to someone off-screen. A shattered body suddenly came into the picture, obviously that of an enemy trooper. Under its torn black uniform it had a blood-red exoskeleton, almost insectile except that its head looked like that of a vulpine or canine. Someone behind Hendrix threw up.

"This is 'they', Admiral. They've decimated our ranks and are formidable fighters. There's nothing you can do. Now I implore you, go!"

Hendrix nodded. He looked at his bridge crew. All horrified, yet wearing that look of determination, the silent battle cry.

"Cheltenham, we're coming in for rescues. I know of the back door there. Hold out until our transports get to you, then take the back way out."

The bulldog stared for a moment, his expression blank. "Listen you can't get here in time. Pull out now!"

"Cheltenham, I…"  
Then the door behind Cheltenham blew open, propelled by an explosion. The bulldog was knocked off-screen by the blast, but struggled to rise. One enemy trooper burst through the doorway, but was cut down by the Cornerian troops in the room.

Then three more came in, firing automatic weapons. They too were taken down, one by Cheltenham, who had drawn his blaster pistol. But more and more poured through, each taking at least one Cornerian with him.

Finally, Cheltenham was hit in the arm, and the rest of his troops were shot dead. Cheltenham leaned back against his communications console, obscuring Hendrix's view. The hologram showed little else but the bulldog's back and his left arm which was groping for something on the console. The sound of a pistol being charged up came over the transmission.

"You are the leader of this base?" Asked a voice.

"Well, yes, now that you mention it." Replied Cheltenham calmly.

Hendrix was speechless. He and the bridge crew watched the transmission in stunned silence.

"You have been defeated." Said the voice again. "Your forces are vanquished. Now you must come with us."  
"I don't think so." Said Cheltenham cheerfully.

The other person was obviously miffed. "You dare refuse us?! You are coming, like it or not. But if you come peacefully, our Lord will not humiliate you in your execution ceremony, nor will your death be painful."

"Well. Why don't you just shoot me now?" Cheltenham seemed so happy it was as if he was playing a simple card game with his adversary.

Cheltenham's arm stopped searching, and it seemed he had closed his hand around something.

"Our blasters are on stun mode. Now you try asking again for us to shoot, eh?"

"Be that as it may, I'm Not Going Anywhere."

Cheltenham's paw was suddenly directly in front of the console, and it occupied most of the hologram. It was giving a thumbs up. It pointed at the screen, then gave an ancient signal, the V for victory. _You guys carry on and win this for me,_ it signaled.

Then Hendrix recognized the device Cheltenham held. It was a remote detonator.

Even though Cheltenham could not see him, Hendrix saluted.

Cheltenham's thumb pressed down on the trigger, then the screen flashed white before the transmission cut off.

Down on the planet, a fireball swept through the huge base, obliterating all the buildings formerly owned by the CDF, along with the occupation forces charging in.


	14. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Far ahead of the Katinian fleet, the fighters of Husky Squadron were continuing their battle. Francine Bastion, leader of Two Flight, had caught a number of enemy fighters preparing to launch. She fired one of her remaining nova bombs down the enemy carrier's launch tunnel, crippling that vessel and obliterating the squadron inside.

More, though, swarmed in towards her front and rear. The enemy fighters vaguely resembled the Invader-class fighters of the old Venomian forces, but these were tougher, better armed, and just as agile. Francine lined up a well-placed burst of fire, aimed at the four fighters coming at her head on. Three of her enemies broke away, but one, obviously inexperienced, was trying to fire on Francine's fighter, flying straight into her shots. As that opponent vaporized in Francine's sights, another four took up position behind her. Something struck the rear of her fighter, but no major damage was reported.

"This is Husky five, I'm getting swamped here." She made a hard turn to port. One of the fighters was coming in too fast and its turn went too wide, but the others tightened their own flight paths accordingly. She rolled to starboard and pulled up hard, then applied a hard yaw to port, cutting away from her pursuers. However, instead of attempting to turn to starboard and give chase, all three had followed their port turn around, and were quickly pulling in from behind. They were too far from her to strike with lasers, but Francine knew they wouldn't try that tactic unless they had a reason. Her headset sounded an alarm and confirmed her fears; they were going for a missile lock. "Husky Five here, I need help!"

"This is Husky Six, I… whoa! Can't help, got some on my tail!" Keeler's shots went well wide of the bogeys on Francine's tail, and he had to swerve away from his flight leader to stay alive. The beeping alarm in Francine's headset grew more urgent, and she tried a hard yaw to port coupled with a firing of her retros. But a glance at her sensors registered that they were still behind her, and that they had achieved a missile lock.

"This is Husky Seven, I'm going in!" Blaze Walters had suddenly interposed his ship in-between Francine's and the oncoming fighters, and had already lined up for a head-to-head run with them.

A swathe of laser bolts cut in at the enemy fighters, but amazingly they returned fire and avoided most of Husky Seven's shots without running into each other. Blaze fired a missile without waiting to achieve a lock. The three enemy fighters broke in all directions, and even avoided most of the fireball when Blaze remotely detonated the warhead. Still it did the trick, they no longer had a lock on Francine, and they hadn't gotten a shot off at her.

"Thanks, Seven."

Three LF-220's from Fang Squadron zipped by Francine's cockpit canopy, in pursuit of a flight of four enemy ships. Then another seven enemy ships followed in pursuit of them. Francine turned to assist.

"Fang Nine, get your people to wax those bandits now, you got bogeys on your tail!"

"Right… Hold on!"

The three Fangs ahead fired off some shots, destroying two of their targets. Then they broke in three separate directions. Most of the enemy fighters broke off after the LF-220's immediately, but one hesitated. That was all Francine needed. A volley of lasers took care of that one, but the others had successfully stayed on the Fangs.

An terrified scream over the comm and an explosion to Francine's right marked the end of Fang 11. She turned in that direction and lay into one of the killers, before the other one zoomed off at a vector too sharp for her to follow. Instead she pulled in towards Fang 9 and Fang 10, managing to get behind the fighters chasing Nine. But her shots missed, with the two enemy fighters having turned hard just as she was lining up. Fang Ten was coming up straight ahead, with another two fighters chasing him. Fang Nine was already firing at the pursuers, but they managed to veer away, easily avoiding Nine's hasty shots.

One made the mistake of dodging right into Francine's sights. three shots riddled the fighter, not causing any explosions, but leaving gaping holes in its top, one of them dead center on the cockpit.

_These guys are good! We're getting kills, but not the ones that count. We're just stripping them of the weakest of their pilots while their best live on to fight and kill another day._

Bill's voice came over the comm. "All fighters, there's a change in orders; the fleet is pulling out and we need everyone back at the carrier. Blow up what you can then go full throttle back to the _Archangel_. I want Fang, Demon and Bulldog Squadrons to go over Macbeth's north pole, full speed. Huskies, follow me around the south, go regular speed at first, arm nova bombs."

At that command, survivors from the other three squadrons under Bill's command broke away from the battle, some boosting so suddenly that enemy fighters were caught off guard that they were left behind, others performing last minute maneuvers or destroying what threats they could before jetting off.

Francine found Bill's fighter highlighted on her HUD and pulled in behind him.

"Two Flight, Report!"

"Six here, I've had some wing damage, but I'm OK."

"This is Seven, I'm in good shape."

"This is Eight." The voice was labored, breathing heavily. "I caught shrapnel when one of my indicator consoles exploded. I can fly, but fighting will be tough."

Francine thought a moment. "Eight, stay close to me, you'll be fine. I know what Bill has in mind. After our runs, we'll just go straight back to the _Archangel_."

"Yes ma'am."

Matt watched the enemy fleet recede behind him. A small number of fighters were giving chase, but the Huskies' evasive maneuvers easily threw off their aim.

_These guys must be the rookies of their fleet._

Husky was going over the frozen south pole of Macbeth, alone, with the other three squadrons of the 3rd tactical fighter wing taking a northerly route. The lead ships in his squadron suddenly boosted, and all the Huskies followed suit, using their ships' excellent acceleration to leave behind their foes. Though the enemy fighters had an almost equal top speed, their lower engine power meant that they could not reach that speed as quickly as the Huskies could. Enemy fire became less intense and less accurate. Soon the Huskies were outside their enemies' missile range, and were coming around Macbeth back towards their carrier.

Dead ahead, as expected, were Fang, Demon and Bulldog Squadrons, tailed by a swarm of enemy fighters. They were perfectly lined up for the Huskies, whose approach had been hidden by the planet which they were orbiting. Some of the enemy craft ahead started to commence evasive maneuvers.

Matt didn't give them any more time to think. He launched his last nova bomb, and saw several more shoot out from various points into the enemy fighter cloud.

His visor darkened considerably, trying to compensate for the extreme brightness of the twelve blasts.

When his vision cleared, Matt saw that the enemy had been decimated. Starfighter parts and secondary explosions littered the space behind Demon Squadron. Those fighters that were left limped away from the battle scene.

"Unbelievable!!!" Someone yelled.

"They sure felt that one!" Said Commander Grey. "I think we all made Ace today!"

Husky Squadron's fighters flew in towards their spot on the deck of the _Archangel_, behind Fang Squadron this time. "Husky Six, you fired a bomb before any of us. Why didn't you wait for the order to fire?"

Matt paused. He _had_ fired early.

"Uhh, I don't know sir. It was just straight from instinct, I think."

"That's OK. I wasn't going to give the order anyway. That trick has never required an order to be given during execution, and no Husky has ever needed one. Following your instincts is the first sign of being a Husky."

Matt felt pride well up inside him, as he guided his fighter down onto the _Archangel._

"Sir, all fighters secure."

Admiral Hendrix allowed himself to smile despite the events that had just taken place. At least he was leaving with his fleet more or less intact. Some stray CDF fighters from Macbeth had even found their way to the fleet and were sitting on the deck, locked down, with their pilots being helped to the airlock under an atmosphere containment field.

"Helm, prepare for warp. We'll be clearing the anti-warp field soon." Hendrix watched the sensor screens. The enemy fleet was coming on fast. But they wouldn't reach him in time to do any damage.

Something behind him beeped. "We're clear of the field. Engaging warp drives."

Lines of light shot past the bridge, then the carrier escaped into warp-space.


	15. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Despite the terrible losses suffered by the CDF and KDF that battle, Bill managed to sit down at his desk with a grim satisfaction.

Husky Squadron was still completely intact except for Terry Kay, the Eagle whose callsign was Husky Eight. He was in the sick bay being treated for his wounds.

Bulldog squadron hadn't taken any losses either, though all of their Kodiak fighters were so banged up they would spend days being serviced.

Fang Squadron had lost three pilots. Sticks was seeing to the condolences that would be sent out.

Demon Squadron had also lost three pilots, including their CO, Norton Xion. The XO, a kangaroo named Gus Burke, had taken control of the squadron, and was getting acquainted with the burden of command.

The 1st Tactical bomber wing under Commander Warren had fared much worse. His own squadron, the Strikers were at half strength, having lost six pilots and their ships. The other squadrons in his wing had just seven or eight survivors each.

As for the stragglers from Macbeth, there were eight pilots flying extremely damaged LF-220's who had made it to the Katinian Fleet. Once their fighters were repaired they would be incorporated into the 1st tactical bomber wing to ease some of the losses.

For their part, the Huskies had inflicted something around eleven losses on the enemy each, a vastly impressive number. Bill had bagged the most, at 24 fighters and two capital ships, and Matt Keeler had done the least, his nova bomb at the final clash claiming 6 enemy fighters. Still, one's worth to the squadron was not measured in kills.

Bill closed the battle results on his terminal, and brought up the tactical screen. Macbeth, Venom and Sector Z all lay in enemy hands. The fleets arriving at Titania had saved that planet, and Starfox would be heading the defense around Solar.

For him and Husky Squadron, though, Zoness was to be their next destination.

Or so it seemed. His terminal beeped, having received an incoming message from the Admiral.

Bill frowned at having to deal with more tactical and strategic problems after having just come out of a cockpit, but opened the message anyway.

Don figured he had never felt more tired.

_It's one thing running through high-speed, hyper-realistic simulations of battles and actually fighting for my life and my mission in a real war. Jeez, I wonder how those veterans felt after their first battle._ Commander Grey, Captain Perry and Lieutenants Leahy and Bastion had hardly seemed fazed after the battle, completely ignoring the fatigue which came from a hard battle, more concerned with making sure Terry was all right and issuing orders to the maintenance crews.

As he walked back into his quarters, he saw that Keeler was poking through his things. He dug deep into his cargo box and pulled out a towel. "Aha! Finally found it. See you, Don, I'm off to the showers."

"Yeah, see you Matt."

Keeler turned and walked out.

"Showers, eh? Good idea." Don muttered to himself, reaching for his own cargo box.

The moment he had undone the latches, an inflatable female canine shot out of the box, propelled by the compressed air inside it like a stone from a slingshot. Don yelled in surprise and stumbled back wards. Then there was a flash. He felt his stomach sink.

There was Keeler, at the door with a camera, grinning like a maniac.

Don couldn't help but let a rueful smile cross his face. "I left my box unlocked earlier today, didn't I?"

Matt nodded emphatically.

"And this is the same prank I put on your bed, isn't it?"

Matt nodded again. He looked like he was on the verge of exploding with laughter.

"You know I'm going to get you back for this."

The boy shrugged.

"No, I'm serious."

Keeler broke down laughing and struggled out the door.

"Kids can't take anything serious these days…" Don muttered.

A few hours after the battle at Macbeth, Bill walked into the hangar. The smell of hot metal combined with countless flashes from laser cutters and welders contrasted sharply with the clean, never used hangar he had seen when he first landed. Many of the originally sparkling fighters now bore black streaks, deformed hulls and large holes from enemy fire. His own fighter had been lightly hit, with a laser bolt having grazed his left wing.

He approached the mechanic nearest his fighter, who was now just packing up his tools.

"What shape's she in?"

"Good shape, sir. The wing structure is back to normal, though the material we used to patch it up is not as strong as the original metal."

Bill nodded. "Not much that can be done about it right now. How's the rest of the squadron?"

"Top shape, we've repaired most of the major damage now. Though keep your eye on those three- they insisted on dealing with their own problems." The mechanic pointed a wrench at three individuals further down the hangar.

Leena Sweet, Robin Charters and Fuzzy Pawson, Huskies ten through to twelve respectively, were milling around Leena's fighter. Sweet was in the cockpit, Charters was reading a console not far away and Pawson was lying under the fighter, working on something just beneath the cockpit.

"They managed to scrounge some components off the ship's stores. Engineering is not happy." The mechanic chuckled. "But if you'll excuse me, I'm off-duty now."

"Of course." Bill said. The mechanic saluted and strolled away.

Bill turned to the trio near the fighter. "You three!"

The three pilots stopped what they were doing. Sweet vaulted out of the cockpit and Charters turned and saluted. Pawson slid out from under the fighter and followed suit.

"Sir!"

Bill returned the salute. "What's going on here?"

Pawson raised his paw. "We're making some modifications to Leena's fighter, sir. We found some components for shield generators and, well we're giving it a try."

This piqued Bill's interest. "What are you doing about the power it needs?"

Pawson pointed at a component lying on the floor next to the fighter. "We also managed to get our paws on some older but more efficient generator components. They should boost the power enough for some light shields." Fuzzy laughed. "We traded a pair of hand-held games consoles, an expensive watch and one hundred and fifty bucks for them, but we got'em."

Bill didn't realize the _Archangel_'s quartermasters were so willing to let go of parts.

"So the shields work or what?"  
Fuzzy grinned. "They're already working on my fighter."

Bill was surprised. It hadn't taken them very long to do that.

"Listen, I got a job for you. See if you can get shield generators on the entire squadron."  
"Um, sir, we traded everything we could part with for those components. And even if we had more cash, the engineers will eventually start complaining that we're not leaving enough for them."

"Don't worry about that." Replied Bill. "I'll get some squadron support behind you. I'm sure they'd be willing to cough it up for a chance to survive that little bit longer in battle."

"Yessir. It shouldn't take long if we've got all the parts we need."

"Good. I'll be providing you those parts. That is all."

The three pilots saluted and returned to their work.


	16. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"That's insane."

Bill Grey and Lomo Warren both shook their heads at the Admiral. Hendrix nodded in agreement, but followed it up with a shrug. "Gentlemen, there is little else we can do. The attack is going ahead. We can't let them keep Macbeth and expect to consolidate our position. That planet is vital for raw materials, and it is an effective striking platform for attacks around the rest of the Lylat System. The first cruise missiles have started striking Corneria and Katina, and it's been decided that this must cease."

They were discussing the next move over a light snack in the Admiral's reception room. The ornate table they were standing around had a simple meal upon it- a plate of crackers with some wine. Commander Warren put down his glass. "But what about the defence of Zoness? The enemy forces in Sector Z…"

"Are no longer there." Hendrix pressed a button on a remote control, and a hologram of the Lylat System materialized over the table. He pointed at a spot around Zoness. "We are here, and this is how our forces have been deployed."

A plethora of green and blue icons representing armor and infantry battalions, starfighter and bomber squadrons, missile silos, starship fleets and bases appeared. "These moves by the enemy were relayed to the fleet by intelligence operatives working with the resistance on Venom." On the hologram, a number of red icons appeared, clustered around Macbeth, Sector Z and Venom. The red icons in Sector Z moved towards Venom, and a number of icons over Macbeth and Venom moved to face Titania.

"Why are they doing that? What's so special about Titania?" Asked Bill.

"My guess is as good as yours, but we've got a lot of forces down there. Maybe they anticipate an attack."

"Maybe it's another feint." Muttered Lomo. "I don't like this."

"Well it _is_ way beyond me now. General Rathcoat and Fleet Admiral Winston have both approved it."

"Is this the same kind of intelligence that failed to forewarn us of their assault?" Bill asked, letting as much cynicism into his voice as he could.

"Perhaps you doubt what I have given you?" A voice emerged from the adjoining conference room, and following the voice came the speaker; a tall badger wearing the rank of Commander. He had some freshly healed cuts on his face.

"Commander Pontac, your presence has not been requested." Said the Admiral sternly.

"Who's that?" Asked Bill.

"That is the man that brought us up to speed on the current situation. Resistance fighters on Venom helped him hijack a small transport and he got here after eluding enemy forces at Sector Z. He thought we might have been holding there. Commander Grey, Commander Warren, this is Commander Pontac, Cornerian Military Intelligence."

The three Commanders saluted.

"So, Commander Pontac, now that you're here, why don't you explain to the two gentlemen what you explained to High Command."

"Of course." Pontac cleared his throat. "While on Venom, the resistance forces I linked up with obtained a comm receiver from a downed enemy fighter. We intercepted most of the transmissions from their ground base to their fleet. When we learned of the imminent attack on Macbeth we concocted a plan to get me offworld and to relay the attack to you people. Unfortunately, we were set back, and by the time we could launch Macbeth was already lost. Still, we learned of a new attack on Titania, and I went offworld anyway. We believe there is a reasonable chance that they will leave Macbeth temporarily undefended."

"A reasonable chance." Bill echoed. "Now why would they want to take Titania?"

"I'm not sure, but they're doing it." Replied Pontac. "Commander Grey, I know there are risks involved, but the opportunity is there. Macbeth has vast stores of raw materials, as well as hundreds of tanks, artillery and spacecraft that lay dormant in their bases while their pilots were massacred on the ground. We can't pass it up."

"Well what if it's a carefully engineered trap set by them to completely annihilate this fleet?" Asked Commander Warren warily. At this Admiral Hendrix nodded silently.

"It might be, but consider the situation. We are on the back foot. We have to take Macbeth back before they can consolidate their hold on it. If they put its resources into good use we're done." Said Pontac. "Gentlemen, you are more familiar with the gravity of the situation than I am- I am more familiar with the intricacies of the situation than you are. It would be wise to go forward with this I think. Trap or not, it's something we must do."

"Great, so we just fight our way out of the perfect trap then, if it is?" Commander Grey asked sarcastically.

"I never said that…"

"Forget it. Those are the orders of High Command, and we gotta follow'em." Commander Grey gave Pontac an icy stare. "But that doesn't mean I like'em, and it doesn't mean we can fulfill them. But if you're wrong Commander," Bill Grey turned, unable to find a phrase appropriate to finish with.

"Commander Grey, Bill, I am staying with the fleet, if I am wrong, I will pay the price too."

"Yeah, along with 8000 Cornerians and Katinians. Big hero." Commander Grey was about to leave when Hendrix stopped him.

"Your formal orders." Said the Admiral. The lion put a datapad in Bill's hand.

Bill saluted the Admiral, then walked out.

_Whether I like it or not, this is what's happening. The most any of us can do right now is hope that Pontac is right and fight for our lives. If he's not, we fight for our lives anyway. There's just worse odds the second way._

Fuzzy surveyed his handiwork.

_Not bad, if I do say so myself._

The twelve fighters of Husky Squadron had been outfitted with rechargeable shields, each having slightly different components from each other due to lack of availability of parts.

"Leena, what've we got left on our budget?"

The border collie glanced at a datapad. "We still have Don's five antique Speedball cards, the antique book from Perry and a squadron resource pool of 342 bucks."

"Well then let's return what we can." Fuzzy looped an arm around Leena's shoulders. "I think this achievement calls for a celebration."

"Well what about a visit to the bar? We're off duty." Robin yelled from a fighter cockpit. He slid out and joined the two canines by the fighter's nose.

"Ah, thank the Gods for the Katinian Navy." Fuzzy grinned. Had the Katinians adopted the same strict no-alcohol practices as the Cornerian Navy, it would have been just that much more difficult to unwind, or celebrate. The navy had great faith that the pilots and crew would engage in responsible drinking. They were therefore not excessively familiar with certain elements of Husky Squadron.

"Better get ourselves cleaned up first, though." Said Robin. "Especially you, Fuzzy."

"What?" Fuzzy glanced down at his oil-streaked work clothes.

Leena rolled her eyes. "C'mon Fuz, your face is worse than your clothes. You're not going anywhere looking like that."

"Leena..!" Fuzzy threw up his paws. "You're both ganging up on me now!" He rubbed his face on his sleeve. "You didn't care how I looked back in the Academy."

Leena laughed. "That's because we were always in uniform and you didn't start showing off the mechanic in you until the last year. C'mon, I'll help you get cleaned up."

Robin threw them an amused glance. "Might I get the impression you two would be interested in getting some of your own 'celebration' happening? Like in a quiet part of the ship?"

At this Fuzzy's and Leena's expressions went from jovial to exasperated. "Step away from the gutter, Rob." Fuzzy said warningly.

"What, been there, done that?" asked the Robin wryly.

"Why you..!" Leena advanced on Robin menacingly. The avian threw up his wingtips and smiled somewhat fearfully. "All right! I quit! I give! HEY!"

Fuzzy had given Robin a quick punch in the arm. "'Nuff of that." The Husky said, smiling. Of course he and Leena had been great friends for ages, and something slightly more back at the Academy, but since they graduated, they spent a good deal of time apart and made new relationships. Now they just remained really good friends. Not that Robin would know; he had just graduated short of a year ago, and was the baby of the Squadron before Keeler was accepted.

"Still, you do have a point." Fuzzy said.

"What?" Robin asked, bemused. "You mean, you two… are…?"

"No!" Fuzzy poked Robin in the head. "I mean I need to get cleaned up! This oil's sticking to my fur. We'll meet in the bar in an hour, 'kay?"

"Sounds good to me, Fuz. See you there." Leena gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked off to the hangar entrance.

"What about you, Rob?"

The robin took on a feminine pose and a falsetto voice. "_Sounds good to me, Fuz. See you there._" Fuzzy had to push him off when Robin leaned in for the kiss. "Dammit that's not funny, Rob!"

The Robin laughed "Don't look so concerned! I get out with more chicks than you, since you spend more time messing around drinking, playing cards and analyzing fighter schematics."

Fuzzy chuckled. "In ya dreams, bud. Ask Callie when we get back who gave her the night of her life!"

Robin gave back a single "Ha." Then he set off too.

_You're actually more right than I'd like to admit. Dammit, just cause I have to bloody well take care of the fighters when we're not flying'em… You do your role for the squadron in the cockpit telling us where to go and I have to stay back at the base checking out these things and their schematics while you go for a night on the town, playbird._

Fuzzy sighed.

Still, I do need to spend less time on the job. Wonderful going, we're at war now so I don't have a say in the matter.

Fuzzy grabbed his tools and started back for his quarters. Maybe at the bar later there'd be someone he could get together with.

Bill sat at the bar. It had the usual activity about it, a number of enlisted men, women, and officers all coming down to unwind and relax after their duty shifts were done. The bartender came up to him. "What'd you like, sir?"

"Whiskey, on the rocks." Bill laid seven Katinian dollars on the bar. Whisky was getting cheaper.

"Yes sir." The bartender went off to get Bill's order. He noticed the three pilots who were working on the starfighters earlier sitting and chatting away happily. He had gotten their report just barely a few minutes ago, and hadn't read it yet, but he decided not to disturb them. There was another one, a female flight officer from Lightning Squadron, who was with them, sitting very close to Pawson.

_Husky Twelve's taking risks. Just like this whole fucking fleet._

"Your whiskey sir." The bartender slid Bill a full glass. Bill nodded appreciatively.

"Billy, buddy, what's the latest word from the top?" Perry took the seat next to Bill's. He ordered a beer, asking the bartender to charge it to his wage.

"Well, we're striking in two days, that's when the enemy is expected to move." Bill replied in a low voice. "All out assault."

Perry leaned heavily on the bar. "Great."

"Tell me about it." Bill took another sip of his whiskey.

"I heard you stormed out of the Admiral's meeting. Not too happy, eh?"

Bill chuckled shortly. "Yeah, well, nothing really to stay for. Who told you that, Lomo?"

"Absolutely." Perry drank some if his beer. "Look at that, boys, Pontac thinks he's good. Well he's not. I think he's going to get the whole fleet killed!"

"I hope not." Bill's mind snagged on something Perry had said. "Wait a second, how do you know Pontac?"

"How could I not know?" Perry moaned. "He's been walking around the ship telling everyone how good a job they've been doing and wishing them good luck for upcoming battles."

"I swear that dumbass's going to tip off the invaders before we even brief the pilots." Bill said, exasperated. "How'd he become an intelligence agent like that?"

"Do I sense disapproval, Commander Grey?" The unseen voice again.

"That's probably how." Muttered Perry.

"You love sneaking up on people, don't you?" Bill said flatly. But Pontac was already walking away, out the door.

"Weird guy." Bill went back to his whiskey.


	17. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

By the ship's clock, which was kept in time with Katina City, it was seven in the morning. Having had a good breakfast, Francine headed off to her next appointment, in the officer's lounge. She found the other three veterans of Husky Squadron talking quietly at one of the sets of couches. Bill was handing out datapads, no doubt on the upcoming attack.

"Hey, guys." She said, walking up to them. "Did I miss much?"

"No." Perry replied. "Take a seat, we need to sort this out."

Francine sat on the couch next to Bill. "Well, what is it?"

Bill gave her a datapad. "This is the last spy probe's recon data." He said. "The enemy fleet is moving towards Titania, leaving behind a solid defensive core of one carrier, two battleships and twenty-two frigates."

"They outnumber us." Francine said.

"Not impossibly, and from previous experience we should be able to beat that." Bill reached for his coffee. "Husky Squadron will cover Lightning squadron on a bombing run of the carrier, then we'll refuel after Bulldog's done with the tanker ship. Then we're back out and accompanying the Lightnings down to the surface where we'll hit surface-to-space hyper-batteries and run cover for our ground troops going in." He sipped some of the black coffee and set the mug down again.

"Lightning's awful green, sir." Wallace crossed his arms. "It's going to be hard to protect them."

Bill waved the comment aside. "That's why Husky's been given the job. All of their B-14's will be armed with Nova Bombs and minimal other weapons. Which means that they have to get in range and we have to get in _close_. We estimate it'll take 24 to 36 Nova Bombs to cripple that thing, so keep them safe. Go to the next page."

Francine pressed a small button on the side of her datapad, and the image changed to one displaying a battle plan.

"OK, One and Three flight go ahead of the bombers and clear a path through their fighter screen. One flight will engage fighters to keep them off the formation's tail. We'll be up against the heaviest odds, but we're counting on you all to hit the carrier quickly and get around to help us out. Three flight will stay ahead of the bomber formation and draw the carrier's fire, as well as nailing in the first hits. Two flight will liaise with the bombers and do whatever else is needed. Francine, I expect you to get in the killing blow."

Francine grinned. "It shouldn't be too hard. Every ship has a weak spot, even that monster."

"We'll be expecting up to 130 enemy fighters from their fleet, maybe as many as forty more from Macbeth itself." Bill drank more of his coffee. "We'll be right in the thick of it, but Striker, Nightwing and Demon squadrons will back us up by approaching with long-range missiles from above their carrier. They'll launch first and hopefully draw away some of the enemy fighters. Demon squadron will engage the fighters and Nightwing and Striker will return and re-arm. Demon will retire if the odds get too much, and if the enemy decides to give chase they'll be met by Bulldog, Fang and Heretic Squadrons in front of our fleet. Halberd and Comet squadrons from the escort carriers will be on hand to cover wherever they might be needed. The battleships of our fleet will go straight in at theirs, while our cruisers and destroyers will lay into their smaller ships. The _Archangel _will stay with the tenders and cargo ships, with the frigates as defence."

"And for the ground attack?" Asked Francine.

"All of us will just take orders as they come." Bill sighed. "And that's all we have to offer. The formal stuff's right on the back page of your datapads."

"This is dangerous as hell." Groaned Wally. "Big risk."

"Well, someone's gonna pull it off, and we're the one's with the best chance." Bill replied. "Just like the good ol' days, Wal."

"What, the best chance to get killed, because we're always in the worst situations?" Wally asked.

"Yeah, pretty much." Bill smiled grimly.

"Yep." Wally said, resignedly. "Just like the good ol' days."

The simulator shut down moments after the carrier had finally gone down. "Terry, that was great flying back there." Someone said. "Twelve kills!"

"Nothing, it was nothing. Seven set me up for half of them."

"Thanks, Eight, but you shot them in the end."

"Haha, we do that again and we'll be on Venom by dinnertime." Laughed Husky Six.

"OK everyone out of the sims." Lieutenant Bastion said.

Terry hopped out of the too-small simulator and stretched to his full height- which was a good one and a half feet taller than most of the other pilots. It was good to be healthy again. The lieutenant was waiting.

"That was good, but we let four bombers get destroyed. I'm sure we all know why."

"Yeah." Keeler sighed. "We spent too much time dodging and protecting ourselves and we couldn't protect the bombers."

Bastion nodded. "In a way, yes. But you especially set yourself up that way Keeler. You interposed your fighter between theirs and the bomber, as if you were a shield. The bombers are tougher than you are and what they need from you is your speed. You had some great shooting and provided good cover for the bombers on the way in. But after that you were screwed. Use the bombers. Separate from them a little to get a good shot on the incoming fighters- after all they'll be lining up on the bombers at that stage, not you."

"Yes ma'am." Said Keeler.

"You three are dismissed until the briefing at 1500. Remember, contact lines to the outside are closed until after the attack."

The three subordinate pilots nodded and saluted. Lieutenant Bastion moved off to confer with Commander Grey and Commander Warren.

"Well I fouled up a little then." Keeler said regretfully.

Terry shrugged. "Bah, forget it. You did it here, not in the battle." He said. "I'm gonna have a nap then head off to the game room."

"Yeah, I gotta nail Don for something."

Terry grinned. "What did he do to you this time?"

Matt glanced at the floor. "Well, I had just sat down at the bar last night and the bartender came up and gave me baby nutrients and a glass of milk 'compliments of Husky 3'"

Terry winced. As the youngest in the squadron, Matt was subject to this particular kind of prank.

"BABY NUTRIENTS!" Matt growled. "They keep baby nutrients on this ship!"

"Maybe Don brought them with him just to pull that on you. It'd be the sorta thing he'd do." Said Terry.

"Yeah… Hey, wasn't Blaze with us a second ago?" Matt looked around

Husky Seven had vanished from beside them.

Matt huffed. "Huh, didn't even tell us he was going anywhere."

Terry shrugged. Though he wished he could find out Blaze's problem, he had long ago decided to leave Blaze be. "Don't worry about him. So you wanted to get Don back for it, eh?" Terry stroked the lower half of his beak. "Well, that's something we've all wanted to do for a loooong time, and I have something I think might be able to help you…"


	18. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Looking good, Benny, looking good." Don smiled as his falcon friend made the proper adjustments to Keeler's bunk.

"Test it, Don!"

"Righto." Don picked up one of the heavy cargo boxes and placed it on the bed. "OK get clear!"

There was a soft click as a small mechanism just above the bunk's pillow flipped up and locked. It was the sort of automatic soap dispenser one would find in the ship's lavatories.

"Brill!" said Don. "OK Benny, now get me the soap cartridge."

The falcon grinned and retrieved a small pink bottle. It was designed to fit inside the dispenser and squirt when the dispenser was activated. Benny was just handing it to Don when the thing exploded, showering them with its contents.

"GAAH!" Don exclaimed. "What was that?!"

Benny sniffed the air. "It wasn't soap."

Don groaned. "Stinkbomb. The little squirt did something to this bottle."

"Someone's been informing him of our favorite routines." Said Benny coldly.

"Well they're not going to get away with it!" Don announced proudly.

"But first…"  
"FIRST!"

"TO THE SHOWERS!"

The last two squadron members, Huskies 3 and 4, arrived to the briefing at 1455. Both of them immediately started glaring at Husky Six, who was grinning quietly to himself. Bill chose to sort out what that was all about later on.

He glanced around at the assorted faces, gauging morale. The officers were all ready for the mission, as always. Don and Benny were just talking and grinning. They were planning something, but at least they didn't look tired or stressed. Matt was looking very eager to go. Bill hoped he wouldn't become reckless. Blaze wore an expression of utter impassiveness. Quite normal for him. Terry was also grinning to himself. Well, he was happy about something, what it was exactly, Bill wasn't sure. Leena was chatting casually with Robin and Fuzzy, as per usual. Overall morale was good.

"All right pilots, listen up everyone. Contrary to some rumors, our mission today won't be for Venom. Our target is Macbeth.

"We will be striking at the enemy fleet there first, which is not as good as it was before, since they've moved their forces to attack Titania. After that we'll run cover for our landing ground troops. On our way in, One flight will engage fighters, Three flight will help suppress the enemy carrier and Two flight will help deliver the killing blow."

Don Mossini raised a paw. "Sir, what intelligence info did we base this on?"

Bill almost hesitated. _Very unreliable, very risky intelligence info. _"The sources are classified and none of your concern at the moment Mossini. I want you concentrating on the mission. Now One flight…"

Following the briefing, all of Bill's pilots had the usual ritual of recording a message to friends and relatives, having a drink of water, and for some, a quick prayer to whatever gods they believed in. The PA system was blaring "Twelve minutes to arrival, all crew to battle-stations." No doubt most of the crew were already there.

Bill was just running last minute checks on his own fighter. All systems were running at 100% and the new shields were functioning normally. A half second later he gave a thumbs up to the crewman beside his fighter, and felt himself start getting elevated to the launch deck. He flicked two switches, activating his fighter's artificial gravity and inertial compensators. As he ascended past the atmosphere containment field and out onto the deck, Bill let the colors of warp-space calm him.

_Now I have to let go of any reservations I have about this mission, and just do my job. If something does go wrong, just deal with it._

The other fighters of the _Archangel_ were also rising onto the launch deck, awaiting the drop into Macbeth space and the battle that was sure to come.

Bill's headset counted down the drop.

"5…4…3…"

Fuzzy powered up his shields and weapons systems. "2…1… All fighters launch when ready."

The vivid colors of warp space dimmed to the black, starry background of normal space. Ahead, the mission objective was a large gray-green orb, Macbeth.

Fuzzy felt a slight shake as his fighter detached from the _Archangel_. A quick boost combined with the deck's repeller pushed him off and away, straight towards the enemy fleet, at this distance a number of black specks against Macbeth's cloudy mass. Husky Nine's voice came over the comm.

"Three flight, report."

Fuzzy reported a fully functional fighter, just like Robin and Leena. Lieutenant Leahy reported the flight status to Bill, then gave the order to form up with the bombers of Lightning squadron.

The four fighters of Three flight made their way to the front, leading the bombers by one mile. Fuzzy's sensor screen showed One flight forming up half a mile behind them and Two flight assuming escort formation around Lightning squadron.

"Huskies, we have enemy launch: one squadron is off the carrier and incoming."

"This is Husky Nine, we've got it. Mark up and go one for three."

Fuzzy set his HUD. Ahead, a faint glow from starfighter engines could be seen flying from the enemy carrier. He armed his first three missiles and went for a target lock. A few seconds later, red crosshairs superimposed themselves over the enemy fighters. Ignoring the shrill alarm in his headset reporting an enemy lock on his own fighter, Fuzzy fired his three missiles at the last trio of enemy fighters to come into range. Immediately after that, his HUD reported two enemy missile launches at him.

_Piece of cake. Just time it…_ Fuzzy came straight in at the enemy missiles, as the distance indicator ran dangerously close to zero. As the enemy missiles came within thirty feet, a quick burst of electromagnetic countermeasures and a long boost up and away from the incoming warheads were enough to cause them to lose their target. They automatically detonated harmlessly behind Fuzzy's fighter.

"Three flight, this is One. Go on straight ahead, we'll take care of the rest."

Fuzzy smiled. They hadn't left much for One Flight. Only six of the original twelve enemy fighters had survived the first run, and they were so disoriented that Husky Leader and his team could easily pick them off.

Ahead, the enemy carrier came on quickly, its huge size even dwarfed the _Archangel_. But something was wrong with the picture.

_Why aren't they firing? Why aren't they launching any additional fighters?_

"Husky Twelve here, does anyone see anything wrong with this?"

"This is Nine, I agree. Approach at speed with caution."

Three flight broke into two pairs, one going above, the other going below the enemy carrier. Fuzzy adjusted his shields and began firing his lasers at the carrier. _The Lightnings should be in range soon… Wait a second!_

"ALL FIGHTERS BREAK OFF!" He suddenly yelled. Fuzzy rolled left and boosted, with all power from his lasers dumped into his engines. The protrusion he had spotted on the side of the carrier, a plasma hyper-battery, sent a beam of brilliant white-purple energy searing through the space a couple of meters behind his ship. A couple of transmissions came through, but they were cut short before half of a word could be said. Fuzzy didn't stop boosting until the beam faded away.

"This is Husky Leader! All fighters commence evasive maneuvers!" The purple beams continued to shoot out at the Huskies and Lightnings, disintegrating one bomber which got caught at the fringes of the beam. "Three flight, report in!"

Fuzzy waited a moment to take his turn. But no-one else from his flight reported in, and a few sickening seconds later, he transmitted a message back. "This is Husky Twelve, I'm OK." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Sensors show no sign of Huskies 9, 10 or 11."

The comm remained silent while the rest of the Huskies and Lightnings got out to a safer distance. Bill began issuing orders again. "Lightnings, fall back! Francine, join up with me, we're probing for weaknesses. Husky 12, link up with Two Flight."

"Yessir." Fuzzy thought he was going to be sick. _Wally, Robin and Leena all gone in a matter of seconds. Just because of a single surprise attack._

Fuzzy resumed formation, watching two of the Huskies fly out at the monster which had just devoured his best friends. Now, only two fighters would try and draw all its fire in the hope of finding a weakness. "Go get them, Sir." He said quietly.

Francine pulled away from another purple beam sweeping towards he fighter. "Bill, I'm not reading any shields. From the looks of it there's around eight plasma batteries set around the ship. Knocking out, say, the frontal four gives us a window of attack."

"All right, I'm going in for a run. Cover me, Francine." Bill's fighter weaved in-between four of the deadly beams, dancing around them almost playfully. Of course Bill was doing anything but playing.

Francine cut in low behind Bill, drawing two of the beams after her. Out of the corner of her eye, Bill looped, narrowly avoiding another beam, and sending a pair of missiles down onto a plasma battery. The battery vaporized, leaving only three more firing at the two Huskies. As Bill lined up for a shot at another battery, though, they stopped firing. The missiles Bill launched crashed into the ship's energy shield, doing no damage.

"Bill, this thing DOES have shields!" She fired a stream of laser bolts across one of the plasma batteries but they dissipated a couple of inches away from the enemy vessel. Suddenly the purple beams began shooting out again, and one was sweeping inexorably towards her fighter. But an explosion blossomed from the base of the beam and it ceased to exist. Bill's fighter flashed across the surface of the enemy carrier. "Thanks Bill."

"No problem Fran."

Francine glanced at her readings again, just after sending her fighter on a looping turn to avoid more plasma fire. "Bill, I think this thing doesn't have enough power to fire all its batteries and power its shields at the same time."

"So we should knock out the batteries while it's firing?"

"No!" Francine checked her readings. "No, if we get all the batteries it'll just turn turtle and pull all power into the shields. I'm going to look for its power source." Francine spun in towards one of the batteries and intentionally fired her lasers wide of it, to keep the enemy gunners guessing.

She adjusted her sensors from a broad scanning detection mechanism to a tight beam more useful for finding out details about individual ships. She ran the beam over the length of the enemy vessel.

_Let's see, high electric fields near the bridge and the prow, but nothing like a main reactor. My scanners penetrated pretty deeply into the ship in most parts, but here, a couple of decks in from the middle of the keel, there was too much armor to see through._

Francine nodded as she pulled around another purple beam.

_It's the power core._

"Bill, three fifths of the way from bow to stern, launch nova bombs from directly under the keel."

"OK Francine." Bill's fighter flew past the ship's horizon. "Come from opposite sides and keep firing near the batteries to trick'em. Fire together, two bombs each, in twelve seconds."

"Got it." Francine swerved around the bridge, cutting in so close she saw a crewman/woman/thing (yes, definitely a _thing_) duck for cover. As she passed around the enemy carrier's engines, another purple beam almost went straight into the cockpit, but passed wide thanks to a last minute left turn. She planned her approach so that she'd reach the pre-designated launch point at the right time.

She counted down to zero, and upon seeing Bill's fighter aim directly at the spot she had mentioned, she fired.

Bill and Francine's fighters tore away from the enemy carrier as fast as their engines would take them. The two of them didn't need any warning. They both knew the consequences of getting caught in a nova explosion.

For a moment, the enemy gunners didn't catch on and just kept on firing. Then someone on the bridge realized it and all the batteries ceased fire.

The shields came on a second too late. The bombs managed to buckle the thick bulkhead wall that protected the carrier's main reactor, then caused enough of a shockwave to destroy control consoles, power couplings and coolant feeds. Faced with a catastrophic nuclear explosion, someone on the bridge shut down the reactor. The ship lights dimmed momentarily.

Of course, the two backup generators came online, but simply didn't have the power to sustain the plasma batteries. Instead sporadic bursts of regular laser fire shot out ineffectually at the attackers. Bill came back around towards the bridge, sending an order across the comm as he did so.

"All Huskies and Lightnings, this is Husky Leader. Enemy defences neutralized. Fire at will."

The remaining fighters suddenly moved in, firing Nova Bombs and missiles, tearing the enemy carrier apart chunk by chunk. Added to this firepower were the long-range missiles of Striker and Nightwing squadrons, which penetrated deep into the now-shieldless carrier. Finally, with the fires inside burning uncontrollably and the bridge smashed, with no power or any way to save the ship, the enemy ceased firing and escape pods started being jettisoned.

"This is Lightning One, thank you Huskies. If we hadn't had that cover from Commander Grey and Lieutenant Bastion, we'd have been history."

Bill's voice came through louder, though, and full of alarm.

"It's not over yet! Scanners report more enemy fleets jumping in! One from Sector Z, another just came in from Titania's direction and a group of cruisers have dropped in from Venom's side! We're surrounded!"

Francine gaped at her sensor board in disbelief. Their fleet was now heavily outnumbered and chances of survival were quickly running out.

"Transmission coming in." Said Husky 3. "It's from an enemy battleship."

"How did they get this frequency?"

"Beats me. Here, it's coming through."

A horrific-looking face appeared on the monitor, like a red vulpine face with an insectile exoskeleton, unlike any species Francine had ever seen.

"Cornerian Forces…" It began.

"… You are beaten. I am not speaking to offer you a surrender. I enjoy watching people like you die. I am simply speaking to make sure you understand that. You are caught in an anti-warp field, and we will start jamming you very soon. You have no chance." The creature smiled sadistically. "Have you any last requests?"  
Admiral Hendrix hit a console button. "Yeah. Power up your shields." He narrowed his eyes. "This is no Cornerian Fleet. This is a fleet of the Katinian Defence Force, and you don't know a fight until you've come against us. Admiral Burton Hendrix, out."

Hendrix turned to face his bridge crew. "We're breaking out. All ahead full, towards Macbeth. Most of the fleet is still engaged with enemy destroyers down there, so we'll link up with them and then drive out past whichever fleet seems to be offering the least resistance."

His crew complied, all ready for the fight of their lives.

"Sir, all three incoming enemy fleets have deployed anti-warp fields. It seems that our best chance would be to head to Solar, since there's the biggest gap between enemy fleets there."

"All right." Hendrix stared at a holographic readout displaying the status of his fleet. Aside from some starfighter losses, it was still completely intact. "Link up with the battleships and press through the enemy forces trying to block us from Solar. Ensign…"

"Yessir?" Ensign Reeber saluted.

"Get me Commander Pontac. He's got a lot to answer for."


	19. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The Huskies formed up on the Battleship _Decklon _as it prepared to break away from the enemy encirclement. The four Katinian Battleships left behind the wreckage of their two enemy counterparts, and the cruisers and destroyers falling into formation behind them seemed to have done their job, though some bore heavy combat damage due to the surprises contained within the enemy fleet at Macbeth.

"We are moving to orbit the planet at high velocity. Stand…"

The transmission from the _Decklon _was cut short by a sharp burst of static. Bill tapped his headset. "This is Husky Leader. All starfighters report!"

No reply.

_Damn, Jamming's on. And we're miles from their fleet. They must have a ton of Jammer ships out there._

Now the starfighters were flying on their own, and the fleet couldn't coordinate an escape.

Enemy fighters suddenly started firing on him _My scanners are gone too, of course._ Bill pulled up and straight into the engine wash of an enemy fighter traveling in the opposite direction. A quick inversal brought him onto the fighter's tail and he triggered a number of shots at his opponent. Most of them hit, turning the angular enemy fighter into a fireball. _That one was a rookie._ Another enemy fighter spat fire at his ship, but Bill successfully evaded and managed to turn inside his opponent then brake quickly, widening his turning circle as he did so. His enemy, who had rolled to keep pace, lost track of Bill as Bill's fighter dropped below his opponent's line of sight. Bill used the opportunity to quickly pull up and around, unseen by his opponent who had reversed his turn in an attempt to find him. Bill fired from above, disintegrating that fighter.

That's when a transmission came through. "Husky Leader, this is Husky 12."

Bill jolted. "Husky 12, how did you communicate?" But the static-ridden voice at the other end of the line continued, obviously having not heard Bill in return. "We might be able to restore communications to a certain extent by cross-wiring parts of our communications systems with our detector systems. Our scanners can do a broad scan identifying all bogeys in an area, or perform a focused, penetrating scan that can see into a ship. We can use that second aspect to break through the jamming and communicate. If you can hear me, it's proof that this works. Order your onboard repair systems to override standard protocol and reconnect the transmission amplifier to the scanner focusing lens. I repeat, reconnect the transmission amplifier to the scanner focusing lens. It might render our scanners useless and disconnect our transmitter web, but we'll still have our receiver web and should be able to receive messages. Just aim the transmission beam at the intended recipient and you should be able to get a message through."

As another enemy fighter vaporized under Bill's guns, he ordered his onboard repair droids to do exactly what Husky 12 had said. Husky 12 spoke again. "Husky leader, since it's a focused beam it'll only allow for transmission to one person at a time, so let the others know in a systematic way."

An OK signal appeared on Bill's monitor signifying that the modifications were complete.

"Husky 12, you're a genius!"

"Just doing my job, sir."

"Here's the deal. Inform the rest of the squadron of the plan, and I'll let the fleet know. Go to it."

Bill spared a glance out over Macbeth's horizon, and he didn't need scanners to know a swarm of fighters from one of the enemy fleets was inbound. _Here they come!_

The region of space around Bill became ablaze with laser and missile fire as the first enemy fighters got within range. Bill pulsed EM countermeasures rapidly, spinning and weaving through wave after wave of assaults. _Just like in the obstacle course. Nothing to it._ Soon the enemy had gotten to within laser range and both the Huskies and the enemy fighters were swirling around each other in a classic, conventional dogfight. After defeating yet another opponent Bill aimed his scanner lens at the _Archangel_ and tapped his comm. "Admiral Hendrix, this is Husky Leader. I won't be able to receive anything from you until you follow these instructions…"

Once Engineering had completed the changes, Hendrix ordered communications and sensors to work in tandem to transmit the changes to the rest of the fleet.

The _Archangel, _the four battleships and the two escort carriers of the Katinian fleet were rapidly pulling away from the bigger, slower enemy battleships, but the enemy destroyers and cruisers were coming on fast. The enemy cruisers would catch up to his ships within fifteen minutes, which meant a twelve-minute engagement before the fleet cleared the anti-warp field. The enemy starfighters were already around them, mixing it up with his own starfighters.

"Admiral!" Hendrix turned, and saw Reeber hastily walking into the bridge. "Admiral, I couldn't find Pontac anywhere. The crew I spoke with haven't seen him either since the start of the battle."

Hendrix managed to keep his anger to himself. _Running and hiding now, are we Pontac? We'll deal with you after the battle, then._

"Admiral, shields down to 94%. Enemy starfighters seem to be concentrating on wiping ours out, but they're leaving our capital ships alone for the most part."

"All right, keep up defensive fire. Maintain shields around this bridge, the shield generators and the engines."

Movement on the viewport caught Hendrix's attention. Something bright was coming up from the planet…

"CONCENTRATE SHIELDS TO THE KEEL!!!" Hendrix yelled.

A massive red laser bolt passed to the right of the _Archangel,_ then another struck a glancing blow on the keel. The shields managed to dissipate most of the beam, but some of it got through and struck the hull of the carrier.

The entire ship rocked and the right-hand side of the ship was wracked with secondary explosions. Alarms started ringing throughout the vessel.

"Climb away from the planet and boost power to engines! Give me a damage report!"

"Atmosphere leaks reported all over our starboard side! We're getting big structural damage reports from there too. Laser batteries 2 and 4 are offline. Shields down to 32%"

"Try to seal it off!" Hendrix ordered. "Close compartment doors and get atmosphere containment fields down there now!" He looked out the viewport again and two more of the giant laser bolts struck the battleship _Starstalker_. One struck a glancing blow to the rear of the ship and the other cored right into the middle. The ship's lights winked out seconds before it was torn apart by a massive explosion. Hendrix caught sight of a single escape pod jetting away from the fireball. If that was the only one, no more than 40 people could have made it off. _Actually, less than that, since the destruction was so rapid._ Hendrix heaved a sigh. "Order the _Katina _to pick up the escape pod from the _Starstalker._" _Two lucky shots and one of our battleships is gone._ "Have Husky Squadron and Lightning Squadron deal with those surface batteries ASAP."

Bill nodded. "Acknowledged _Archangel_, we're heading for the surface."

Bill pointed his scanners at Perry, then transmitted. "Perry, pass these orders along the line. We're going for the surface batteries with the Lightnings. Everyone follow me." Bill then sent a message to the _Decklon. "Decklon_, this is Husky Leader, we're going for the surface batteries, give us cover." _It may be tedious transmitting to one person at a time, but it beats nothing at all._ Bill waited a few seconds for the message to get passed back, then dove for the surface. The blackness of space gradually changed to a bright blue as Bill's fighter entered the atmosphere. The source of the fire seemed to be coming from someplace over the Fenris mountain ranges, which meant that they could approach through the mountain range virtually undetected. He decided not to waste time with a transmission, since the Huskies and Lightnings were following his lead anyway.

He led the formation through a winding valley, flying low enough to avoid sensor detection. _They must have lost track of us by now._ He thought.

He rounded a mountain that had been half-cut away for its resources, then burst into a wide valley. The land here was flatter than the surrounding mountains, and Bill spotted his target; a trio of large hyper-batteries surrounded by anti-aircraft guns.

Bill wasted no time. He raked his lasers across the heaviest concentration of enemy guns, destroying three outright. Perry, following in Bill's wake, did the same and Don accounted for another three. The enemy gunners didn't even have time to aim, as the rest of the Huskies flew past, lasers blazing.

With the anti-aircraft defences effectively wiped out, Lightning squadron came rumbling into the valley. Each bomber launched two nova bombs at the batteries which reduced the deadly weapons into smoldering piles of shattered metal.

"_Archangel_, this is Husky Leader. Ground threat neutralized. "

Bill pointed his fighter to the sky and his jaw dropped. Five squadrons of enemy fighters were incoming.

Normally Bill would have ordered Husky Squadron down into the mountains again and then fought the enemy fighters in canyons and crevasses, but with the bombers to protect, and with fuel rapidly running out, Bill had little choice but to shoot for the sky.

The lightnings started launching Nova Bombs into the enemy formation, bagging some, but the rest came down and started firing missiles.

Three bombers fell instantaneously. That left six to protect. Several more enemy fighters fell prey to the guns of Husky squadron, but those that made it through- and there were a lot- came in and started pounding Lightning Squadron. Another bomber exploded in mid-air.

"Husky Leader! I'm painted!"

Bill quickly glanced over at Husky Three. Eight fighters were chasing him. Bill tried a high corkscrew to get on their tails, but more enemy fire forced Bill to abort that and plunge groundward. Bill put the boost on and ignored the alarms in his headset, approaching the enemy from beneath. Eight accurate shots in quick succession brought down each enemy fighter, but the last two fired missiles before he could get them. One of them streaked past Husky Three thanks to a last second dive, but the second slammed full into him, disintegrating his fighter. Bill snarled, then juked up, braked and allowed his fighter to drop, putting him on the tail of the enemy fighter chasing him. He fired another two shots, destroying its engine and sending his opponent sailing towards the ground.

_My shields are out… Damn! Keeler!_

Husky Six's fighter was spewing flame from its right engine. The young pilot was shooting down fighter after fighter, protecting one of the bombers, but with only one engine left it was only a matter of time. A trio of red laser bolts struck his fighter's underside in quick succession, putting the other engine out of commission. The fighter hung in the air for a moment then spiraled into the ground, slamming into a wooded section of the valley. Soon the bomber he had been protecting absorbed the full firepower of four enemy fighters.

"Shit." Four bombers left to protect, seven Huskies left to do it, and still roughly three squadrons still attacking. Bill swept his laser fire past another enemy fighter, doing minor damage, but still enough to cause it to lose control and crash into one of its comrades. Bill looped up and around, still with three fighters on his tail, and planted laser bolts directly into another opponent. This was when he caught sight of Husky Seven, with several fighters on his tail, trying to evade a missile. He didn't quite make it; the missile detonated just behind his engines, and he drifted, powerless, to the ground. Seven's fighter cut a furrow through the trees and came to a rest with the cockpit more or less intact. But before Seven could jump out, flames engulfed the ship and filled the cockpit.

_We're getting ripped apart! _Bill fired on the fighter that had shot the missile, but his shots went high as that ship evaded down.

Then, it was caught between a pair of blue laser bolts and exploded.

Nova bombs suddenly exploded around him, but not anywhere near his own fighters. A homing bolt struck a small group of enemy fighters, destroying three instantly and sending the last careening into the ground.

_Few fighters have that armament configuration._ Bill looked up. Four Arwings dove into the fray, laying into the enemy fighters like they were little more than flies to be swatted away.

Bill turned and blasted another enemy fighter. "Fox! What're you doing here?"

"Savin' your tail again, Bill." Fox's Arwing fired another homing bolt, destroying two enemy fighters that had found their way onto Bill's tail.

"Your fleet's coming over the horizon, Bill. Get up into space, we'll cover you."

Bill breathed deeply. _We might just get out of this yet!_ "Perry, pass on word to the Huskies and any surviving Lightnings that we're pulling out now. All boost after me."


	20. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"Admiral, _Harton_ reports damage to her engines. She's falling behind."

Hendrix felt the ship rock as another blast from an enemy cruiser struck the ship.

To the starboard, _Harton_ and _Katina_ were engaged in a slugging match with three enemy cruisers. Though the two battleships would easily defeat the smaller cruisers, all the enemy had to do was damage or knock out their engines, and wait for their battleships to arrive. _Then we're done._

"We've lost bridge shields!"

"Deploy screen!" Bellowed Hendrix. Thick metal plates came down over the viewports, offering some added protection. Of course, it also meant that they couldn't see out.

"See what you can do to get those shields back up." Said the Admiral.

An extremely heavy shudder knocked Hendrix off his feet, and caused the lights to go out momentarily.

"What was that?"

"Heavy hit on the port side! Looks like the enemy battleships have started firing, sir!"

"Where are our fighters?!"

"Husky and Lightning still haven't returned from their mission, Bulldog is trying to destroy the enemy bombers, Demon and Fang Squadrons are harassing the enemy fleet, but most of the 1st Bomber is gone, sir."

Hendrix shook his head. Somewhere out beyond the titanium panels his fleet was exchanging fire with his enemies. The _Great Fox_ was out there too, swooping in amongst the destroyers and cruisers harassing his fleet.

"Sir,_ Great Fox _reports enemy destroyers and cruisers destroyed. Enemy battleships are continuing to fire, and our own three and returning fire with rear batteries. We have not been able to restore full power to engines or bridge shields yet."

"How much longer until we're clear to warp?"

"Three minutes, sir."

"Estimated time before the enemy battleships can open up with their full firepower?"

"Three and a half minutes, sir. The _Great Fox_ is clearing a path through the enemy cruisers ahead of us… Wait… Bridge shields are back."

The metal panels retracted and allowed Hendrix to see out again. With the scanners being jammed, it was his only way of keeping full track of events outside.

The battleships had fallen behind his slowing carrier, assuming a protective formation behind it. Huge red lasers lanced out from small specks in the distance behind them, some missing harmlessly and some striking not so harmlessly. A triple blast caught one of the destroyers near the _Decklon_ and utterly destroyed it. In return, his ships fired green bolts back, but Hendrix couldn't tell if they were hitting anything.

"Sir, we have a message from Husky Leader. He's inbound, low on fuel, same as the rest of his squadron."

"All right, give him orders to land, anyone in his squadrons who's not in good shape enough for a safe landing will go first, aided by our tractor beams. Order Fang, Demon and Bulldog Squadrons to come in and land."

The _Great Fox_ assumed formation next to the _Archangel, _as the Katinian fleet passed the wreckage of four enemy cruisers which had moved to block them.

_Almost there, almost out._

What was left of Hendrix's fighter squadrons started locking themselves down on the launch deck, protected from enemy fire by four patrolling Arwings. The ship rocked again as another enemy shot struck the keel.

"All fighters locked down sir." Hendrix gazed sadly at the deck. Fewer than half of the fighters had returned.

"10 seconds until we're clear of the anti-warp field."

"Atmosphere leaks in sectors 9 and 10 contained. Fires are out."

"Engaging warp drive."

The _Archangel_ and what was left of the Katinian fleet plunged into warp-space again, out of the grasp of the enemy forces assembled to destroy them.

Hendrix stared silently out the viewport for a moment, then turned back to his crew.

"All right. I want damage reports and casualty lists ASAP. We'll await more orders once we get to Solar."

Hendrix sat down in his chair for the first time since the battle started. He didn't know which part of him ached more, his legs, his head or his heart. The whole thing had been a trap. Pontac was nowhere to be seen, and he was the one person in the whole fleet that had the most to answer for following the disaster.

While something inside Hendrix told him to be relieved that he had survived at all, given the trap's nature, the combination of depression and anger proved too much. He just sat there, rubbing his head, trying to ease away the nightmare and convince himself it was really over.


	21. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

3rd Tactical Fighter Wing 

Casualty lists following Macbeth Assault 

_Husky Squadron: 6 KIA _

_Bulldog Squadron: 4 KIA, 1 Injured _

_Fang Squadron: 3 KIA, 3 Injured _

_Demon Squadron: 4 KIA, 4 Injured _

Bill rubbed his eyes and signed the battle report. Whilst writing the battle summary he simply recalled times and events and wrote them down, and then wrote numbers and statistics in the attached casualty lists.

But of course, the pilots who had been killed weren't mere statistics. They had friends and family, far away on Katina, Corneria, or another part of the Lylat System. Those family members needed some way of knowing about the deaths, and Bill, in his role as Squadron and Wing Commander, was the one to do that job.

And that job was never easy. Not seven years ago, not now.

He began his first letter.

_To the Mossini Family, _

_It is my sad and regretful duty to inform you that Don Mossini was killed in action… _

Bill stopped typing. He was too tired to even think about what to say to each family. _It would be easier to write to Wally's family, since I actually knew all their names. _He thought. But Bill couldn't even start writing about the sudden demise of his friend. It had been so fast- one second he and his flight were there, the next all but one were ripped from space.

Bill groaned glumly and closed his terminal. He'd get back to it after some sleep.

Further down the corridor, Benny Swipes was just returning to his own quarters. They were solo quarters now, since all those sharing the room with him had been shot down in the last mission.

Benny had seen Don go down. He recalled climbing from a dive just in time to see a missile strike Don's ship, destroying it.

_The best friend I ever had…_

Right now, had the mission been successful, Don would have finished rigging Keeler's bed to do something to the young pilot, who'd have probably ended up formulating a retaliation. Benny had even started to get fond of the funny kid.

Blaze probably wouldn't have been in the room, but even his absence would be missed. Benny sat on his cargo box, wondering what to do. _Mourn, drink, or go to sleep?_

A chime sounded, and Benny stood up. "Come in."  
Instead of Commander Grey, though, a red-eyed Husky 12 came through the door, holding a bottle and a full glass.

"Fuzzy. How're you holding up?" Benny closed the door.

"I don't know." The husky put his bottle on the floor. "The bar's closed, in case that's on your mind. I bought this before the battle, but I couldn't drink any in my quarters because Terry started getting preachy. You don't mind, do you?"

"Naw, I could use some company." Benny glanced at the bottle. "What is it?"  
"Gin, or imitation Gin at least. Help yourself." Said Fuzzy.

Benny stood and retrieved a metal mug from his storage box, and sat back down on it. He poured himself some of the gin then took a large swig. He coughed a little, then swallowed the rest.

"Easy, Benny. Save some of it." Fuzzy drained half his glass, then sat quietly for a moment.

"What are we doing here, Fuzzy?" Benny asked.

The husky pilot frowned. "We were in the armed forces at the wrong time." He poured half a glass of gin for himself. "And, we're stuck here because we survived this mission."

"I know, I know. Gods, I don't know what made me ask that. Jeez, if Don could see me now. He'd probably whack the back of my head and tell me to get a grip, or pull a joke, or some shit like that." Benny looked back at Fuzzy. "You were pretty close to Leena and Robin, weren't you?"

Fuzzy nodded. "Yeah. Leena was my friend for a bit more than 8 years. We used to go to the same school, then we both joined the academy. A couple of years after the graduation, we both made it to this squadron. Robin, well as it happens we had the same hometown back on Corneria, though we never knew each other before we got into the squadron. We talked about home and became good friends."

"Home." Benny sighed. "I got a girl back home, waiting for me. Shit, I always knew there was a possibility I'd get killed, but I never figured it'd happen."

"That's a pretty normal attitude." Fuzzy drank some more.

"Don had a girl too. She's never gonna see Don again. I had to think about that, and now I got myself thinking about if I'll ever see my girl again. Dammit, I don't think I will."

Both pilots kept silent a moment.

"I had a girl, Benny." Fuzzy wiped a tear gathering in his eye. "I let her go when we split ways. We found each other again, and I didn't try to get her back. Damn, I'm such an idiot! Now she's gone. She's gone Benny, and I didn't even tell her." He took a moment to control himself. "Leena deserved more. I should have told her."

Benny thought about it for a moment. "You told the rest of us you two were just friends."

"I told myself that too." Fuzzy groaned. "And that was what I told her. It was a big mistake."

Benny poured himself more gin. "Well Fuzzy, you think we should toast to something?"

The husky thought for a second, then nodded. "Two things, Benny. First…" They raised their glasses. "To our comrades who died, that we should remember their lives and their ultimate sacrifice."

"Hear, hear." Said Benny.

"Second, to us who have survived, that we should honor their sacrifice by staying alive and finishing what they fought for."


	22. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

_Watch out! Watch out! Gah, they can't hear me! NO! Mossini! I couldn't warn him… Aaaargh… I'm Hit! Damn! Who are my scanners aimed at? Husky Seven, I'm hit! Dammit stay away from that bomber! Lightning Ten, move it! I can't keep them off much longer! Shit! There goes my other engine! Repulsors failing! I can't maintain altitude! What's wrong with this ejector seat?! This is it!!! YEEEAAAAARRRRRGGHH-_

Matt Keeler was jolted out of unconsciousness by the vision. He was dimly aware of being in somewhere cramped, and he felt like he was tied down. His eyes snapped open in panic. But he was not captured, as he had feared. Nor was he dead. He was still in his shattered cockpit, still strapped in. He stared out into the darkness. _Night, obviously. I'm still on Macbeth. _Matt tried to look around, but he found resistance blocking his movements. He belatedly realized that a torn metal canopy strut had speared his helmet, pinning it in place. He unclipped his safety harness and slipped out from under his helmet. Intense pain roared through his body, forcing him to stay crouched on the cockpit's floor for a while. When he had prepared himself, he rose, then slid out of his wrecked ship. The cockpit canopy had been shattered, and upon closer inspection the metal strut that had gone into his helmet had missed his head by the barest of millimeters. Parts of his fighter were still smoldering, and it looked like something inside had exploded, blasting away most of the tail of the fighter, but sparing the cockpit. He stared at his reflection in a shard of reinforced glass, revealing that he had a gash along his left cheek, and had been bleeding from the nose and mouth some time ago. His right arm sported another gash and was still bleeding by the looks of it.

_This crash wouldn't have looked survivable from the air, but the ground is soft enough that the whole ship didn't explode on impact. I got lucky. Still, the enemy could be sending scouts down here right now._

Matt didn't waste any time. He crammed as many survival necessities as he could into his pockets and picked up his pocket blaster…

"Drop the gun, Cornerian."

Matt swore and dropped the weapon back into the cockpit. He turned and raised his paws, wincing from the pain in his damaged right arm.

Three of the menacing, insectile creatures advanced out of the forest, aiming assault rifles at him. "On your knees, now!"

Keeler did as he was told. He scanned around looking for something to use, to gain an advantage, but nothing he saw would have helped him.

The biggest of the three creatures came up and planted the muzzle of his rifle on the back of Matt's head. "Look at this one. He couldn't even be old enough to drink." Keeler was terrified, but kept his fear beneath the surface.

The creature leaned in close. "You know, we don't take prisoners."

All of a sudden the creature's knee dug into Keeler's back, driving him to the ground. Before Matt could do anything, he was kicked in the gut. He yelped in pain and rolled over, then someone swept a rifle butt across his face.

Again someone stomped his gut and his yelps turned into scream as the pain built.

"Gosh! I always wanted a Cornerian to beat up on!" One of the creatures taunted.

Those were his last words. Something dropped from the trees and landed on his head, snapping his neck. The other two goons tried to fire on the shadowy figure that had attacked, but it knocked their guns away before they could get a shot off. One went for a knife, but his assailant grabbed his neck and snapped it instantaneously.

The last one had thrown a kick in at the thing's head, but it caught his leg and held it. To Keeler's amazement, flame blossomed from the thing's paws and quickly engulfed the last insectile trooper, reducing it to a charred, burning mass in seconds. The thing crouched low next to Keeler and asked "Are you OK? Keeler, can you hear me?"

Matt's vision was blurring rapidly. The last thing he saw before blacking out from the pain was that his rescuer was wearing a blackened, half-burned Katinian flight suit.

"So Admiral, where do we stand?" Bill asked.

He had met the admiral in the conference room a couple of days after the debacle at Macbeth to discuss losses and their situation. Commander Warren would have been with them, but he turned out to be amongst the dead from the last battle.

"We are headed straight back to Katina, to repair and re-equip." Said the Admiral. "It's going to take a couple of months to do that so I assume we can get some shore time when we get there. Thanks to Star Fox holding the line at Solar, Katina should be relatively secure."

"Thanks to Star Fox, we're all alive." Bill said. "If only we had caught Pontac when we had the chance."

"He's out of our grasp now." Said Hendrix. The lion paused a moment. "You know, I've been thinking, you're quarters do not fit your rank. You're much too important to have that tiny cubicle you call officer's quarters."

Bill waved it away. "Don't worry Admiral. The space is cozy enough and Commander Warren had the same size accommodations."

"But Commander Warren was just a Commander."

_What the hell?! This can't be right!_

The Admiral kept talking. "A Colonel's rank demands better quarters."

Bill didn't believe his ears. "Colonel, sir?"

"Colonel Grey, when you get a promotion you salute and say 'Thank you, sir.' Without Warren's services, you are effectively in charge of every fighter in this fleet, even those off our escort carriers. You need to be a Colonel to do that."

Hendrix handed Bill a small box. Upon opening, Bill saw the rank insignia of an Air Force Colonel; the Katinian triangle on which was superimposed the image of the presidential shield, bracketed by wings.

Bill was speechless. The Admiral removed Bill's Commander Insignia and replaced it with that of a Colonel, as per standard protocol when promoting an officer.

"You'll do your new job just fine, Colonel."  
Bill was overwhelmed, but where politeness and courtesy failed him, military efficiency kicked in. "Thank you, sir." He said, saluting.

"It'll be interesting to see how your pilots react to that shiny thing on your shoulder." Said Hendrix. "Go and check up on how they're doing. If they promise not to be too depressed, I'll open up the bar."


	23. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The first thing Matt was aware of was the pain. After he came to, he could still feel the dull ache in his stomach and the ringing pain in his head. He slowly opened one eyelid.

It was daytime. He was in some sort of a small cave, and beyond the cave mouth he could see woodland. He began to try and sit up but the pain spread to his ribs and he was forced to lie down again.

"Relax, Keeler. You're in no shape to move right now."

Matt turned and got a good glimpse of his rescuer for the first time.

"…Seven? Blaze? Is that you?" Matt asked weakly. Blaze's flight suit looked a mess. Charred and burned away in several places, the whole thing looked like it had been stuck in an oven and left to burn, despite its mild fireproofing.

Contrasting with the flight suit though, was Blaze. He didn't have the slightest sign of any burned or even singed fur. It looked like he had just found the suit and put it on.

"That is correct." Blaze offered Matt an opened ration bar. "You don't have any permanent or even long term damage on you, despite the battering you received. Mostly just deep cuts and bruises."

Matt took the ration bar and bit the end off. "Thanks for helping me out back there. I owe you one."

Blaze seemed unfazed. "We are still on an enemy planet, you know." The being swept his blaster up into his hand and stood. "You stay right here, and don't try to get up. There's a blaster under the rock on your left. I'm going out to check the perimeter."

"Hey Blaze, I just wanna know…"

"Not now."

And then he was gone.

_He sure can be creepy._ Thought Matt. _Was it my imagination the night before, or did he really set fire to that soldier? What's he hiding?_

Matt took a better look around the cave Blaze had chosen for shelter. It was just small enough to fit the two of them and provide adequate protection from the wind and rain.

_And patrolling guards_.

Blaze had done a decent job setting up the place. Matt realized why Blaze was so adamant on him staying down. Despite the lack of light, he could make out a tripwire just inside the mouth of the cave.

Matt inspected his injuries again. This time he sought his reflection in his knife. Blaze had cleaned away most of the blood on Matt's face, and had used the sleeve of Matt's torn flight suit as a bandage for his right arm.

_Well, I may as well do something to wait._ Matt decided. He gnawed at his ration bar, whittling it away slowly. Long after he had finished, Matt began whistling, then when he got bored of that, he just lay there, thinking silently.

Matt endured two hours silence before Blaze returned.

"Nobody's been through here recently." Said Blaze. "From what I gather there should be a small air base twelve miles east of here." The pilot resumed his place at the end of the cave. "And as soon as you get better, we're setting off."

"We're going to hijack fighters?" Asked Matt.

"That's right." Replied Blaze. "And the sooner we get off this rock the better."

Matt nodded. Silence reigned supreme again.

"Um, Blaze, would I be right if I thought you set fire to that goon with you _bare hands_ last night?"

The creature didn't reply.

Keeler just kept on going. "Yeah, cause, I mean, it was pretty freaky, and all. I, uh, just wanna know."

Blaze glanced over at Matt momentarily. "Doesn't matter. Now get some rest."

_What is with this guy?_ Matt decided to try one more time. "It does matter. Man, you are an Enigma! If you could just…"

"Now look just shut up already." Blaze cut in. "I don't need to deal with this during a survival situation. Leave it alone."

Matt clammed his mouth shut. _I had to get stuck behind enemy lines with THIS guy. All right, I'll respect your request, for now. But sooner or later, I WILL find out about you._ Matt let himself slowly drift back to sleep.

Bill hated the formal uniform he was wearing. It was tight; it chafed, and was both hot and heavy.

Worst of all, he was forced to wear it on occasions such as these.

Most of the crew was gathered in the halls and large rooms of the ship. Many were in the superstructure at the aft, and the bridge crew were standing in ranks behind the Admiral. So it was, all over the ship. The crew members standing at attention, in their best dress uniforms, except for those in pressurized suits out on the launch deck.

They had just placed the last coffin on the deck, and were strapping down for the maneuvers that were about to take place. Many of the 114 coffins on the deck were empty, simply there to represent everyone who had died. Throughout the fleet, other crews of other ships would be doing the same. Off the bow, Bill saw the battleship _Harton_ silhouetted against a large brown-blue planet. She was sporting several large holes, the first testimony to the ferocity of the battle at Macbeth.

The second testimony was about to take place.

Bill was on the bridge, as Commander of all starfighter forces in the fleet. An OK signal beeped on the Admiral's comlink and he pressed some buttons on the PA system.

_These words will be transmitted across the fleet. _Bill thought. _Make them count._

The Admiral cleared his throat and began speaking.

"The world you see before you is Katina. For many of you, it is your home. For the rest, it is the world we have sworn to protect to our utmost.

One week ago, we found ourselves caught in a confrontation intended to destroy this fleet. The opponents we faced planned it so that they could strip this world of its defenders.

As defenders, each and every one of you has done this fleet proud. We fought our way out of that trap, and have survived to fight another day, so we can keep protecting this great planet.

However during that struggle, many of our friends, our family, our comrades, died fighting to help keep us alive. We honor them today and forever.

Through battles won and lost,

On land, sea, air and space,

These courageous heroes fought.

Now they have earned their rest,

As soldiers, sailors and pilots, they died for our dreams.

May their souls never be forgotten,

And may their legend live forever."

The Admiral backed away after having recited the memorial verse, and Bill took up the position next to the comm. With 'Saviors of Katina' being played over the PA system, he read, one by one, the names of the dead from the fateful battle, careful not to mispronounce any names or even cough. One hundred and fourteen names were read out, crewmen and pilots of the Archangel who had not survived. By the end of it, Bill's voice was raspy and his throat was sore. He finally stepped back, beside the Admiral.

The lion looked up above the heads of his bridge crew and puffed out his chest.

"Bridge Crew, Salute!"

As one, everyone on the bridge snapped into the salute position as an automated program began taking place in the ship's computers. The carrier dropped away from under the coffins, and began to decelerate. To Bill's eye the coffins began to shoot away towards Katina, though in fact the carrier was continuing to slow down and begin reversing. Every ship in the fleet was doing the same, and Bill saw multitudes of coffins, each shrouded in a Katinian Flag, emerging from the bows of battleships, cruisers, destroyers, frigates, from every corner of his view. As the first of them began entering Katina's atmosphere, they began to glow, and as they descended they became brilliant long white streaks before completely incinerating.

_All on a final parade, going out in a blaze of glory._

To someone on the ground, the hundreds of streaks would have made for a dazzling meteor shower. From the bridge of a wounded carrier, it was the truth of war. One thousand lives taken away because of a power-hungry army that thought the Lylat System would be a good target.

As he watched score after score of coffins reach their fiery end, he recalled something Wally had said just before they deployed.

_Well Wal, you said it. Never again. No more War, for you, ever again. Rest easy, ol' buddy._


	24. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Fuzzy stared out the canopy, watching space slowly become sky as the fighter descended into Katina's atmosphere.

Behind Husky squadron were the survivors of the 1st Tactical Bomber Wing. All 10 of them.

_We lost half of our guys, but they got 10 left out of an original 48_. Fuzzy shuddered. The two Lightnings the Huskies had managed to save were flying by themselves at the back, the fighters looking tired and broken.

_And Dana's not one of them._ Fuzzy thought, recalling the girl he'd been flirting with before the battle.

Fuzzy guided his fighter in behind Bill's as the squadron came in for landing at the Katina City base. The green forest underneath his fighter contrasted sharply with the gray metallic landing pad. With a slight shudder, the fighter touched down, landing right next to the hangar.

Fuzzy unbuckled his safety restraint, grabbed his pack from the rear compartment and followed the squadron out. As he stepped out into the hot Katina City summer, he took a moment to realize where he was. In the short fortnight-and-a-half he had been on deployment, he had already grown accustomed to metal decks and sterile air supplies. The move back to what could be considered a normal environment was a surprising transition, though a welcome one nonetheless.

Fuzzy followed the other survivors from his squadron to the main base, where they were registered and allowed back out into the civilian world, for however long it took to get the fleet repaired. There was no need for any debriefing; most personnel could figure out the situation themselves anyway.

The six remaining Huskies presented their ID's and packs and went through a quick medical and contagion check before they emerged out onto the public transporter terminal. The place was crowded with personnel who had just come off deployment, security officers checking anyone coming into the base for weapons or bombs, and there were some families waiting and plenty of transports were coming and going. The scene was hectic.

Bill turned back to face the squadron. "Well guys, looks like we're breaking up for now. My doors are open in case you need anything. I guess we might get together sometime during our R&R." Bill glanced at a transport parked near the exit. "I'm heading into town to see the folks. That's my transport, so I'd better get going."

"Yeah, see ya Bill." Perry extended his hand. This triggered a number of farewells and pawshakes, as each squadron member set out for the transport which would take them home.

As Fuzzy shook paws and wings with Terry, the eagle asked "Fuzzy, you staying on the base? I heard you were working on the fighters."

"_Was_ working." Said Fuzzy. "I'm going home, getting wasted, pigging out, running in the park and going wild at a bar tonight." The Husky smiled. "Didn't do enough of that before the war started. Now, I'm not wasting the opportunity, in case I never get it again."

Terry smiled back. "All right, well take care of yourself. Don't get arrested."

"You're such a killjoy." Fuzzy chuckled. "I'll probably have to get around to the fighters sometime, but for now I'm hitting the town."

Terry nodded. "Well, see you then. Have fun." He gave Fuzzy a high-five and ran to one of the nearer transporters, managing to halt the pilot just as he was pulling away.

Fuzzy knew that his transporter would be leaving soon, but there was one thing he needed to tend to.

He found them near the entrance, the familiar, old, bespectacled canine, his equally old, dented airmobile, his wife who was hunched over a walking stick and the uniformed son who had just returned from duty. _One person is missing there._

He walked up to the Sweet family, all engaged in a hug as if they might be separated the next day. _It's entirely possible…_ Thought Fuzzy.

"Mr Sweet, Mrs Sweet!" Fuzzy raised a paw as he ran down the sidewalk, swerving around other families and military personnel.

"Fuzzy!" The two older canines shook paws and hugged him as he got within arms distance. Fuzzy could see that Mr and Mrs Sweet had been crying.

"How're you holding up?" Asked Mr. Sweet.

"All right." Fuzzy replied. "I was going to ask you the same."

"It hurts." Said Mr. Sweet, a lot more subdued than his usual self. "We saw the mass funeral over the holovision. We're going to have a small service for Leena at the end of the week. Harry tells me you'll be joining us."

Harry Sweet was the eldest- and now only- child of the Sweet family. He served with Fang Squadron. He and Fuzzy had spent a lot of time sharing memories of Leena on the trip back.

"That's right." Fuzzy replied. "I'm also heading over to Robin's tomorrow."

_Three funerals in one week is terrible, unless you're an undertaker._ Fuzzy thought. _Hey, I'm a fighter pilot. We're basically in the same line of work. I send 'em over, the undertaker packs'em up!_

"Well, I just needed to see how you folks were doing." He said. "This must be a hard loss."

"You're so sweet Fuzzy. We're just fine, thank you." Said Mrs. Sweet, who was wiping a tear from her eye. "It will take a while to get over, yes, but I think we can manage."

Fuzzy nodded. "Well that's my transport." He said, pointing at a large vehicle maneuvering into a parking bay. "If you need anything, just call."

They said their goodbyes and soon Fuzzy was on the transport, reclining in relative comfort, heading home. He cared about the Sweets since he was closer to them than he ever was to his own family. His father was a successful businessman and his mother was a traveling fashion designer. He was sent off to boarding school, then did a short stint as a courier before joining the CDF academy. He rarely saw his parents, and only during special occasions did he ever see them both in one place at the same time. They didn't want him around. They'd always send him away, so as to be no inconvenience to them. When they both died during the war with Andross, Fuzzy had barely shed a tear.

However, whilst his parents had never cared, the Sweets happily took him in whenever he came over, and always invited him even to what were traditionally family occasions. Now Fuzzy, who had inherited his parents' wealth, was always willing to repay their hospitality.

_Those guys are the family I never had. A family's always there for each other, so now I gotta be there for them. _

"Come on, Keeler. Move, or we won't make shelter by dawn." 

"Wait up, willya?" Keeler said, panting. The last few days spent lying down had done little for his fitness. The golden Labrador was clutching a recently healed chest, now burning with fatigue. "We've been going at this speed for hours. Don't you ever get tired?" 

"Your fitness, not mine, is the problem here." Growled Blaze. 

Keeler groaned in exhaustion. "Why can't we just put up a shelter here? I'm beat!" 

"Stop complaining!" Snapped Blaze. "We are in a valley. This is a large valley with no trees. What does that do for our surprise attack on the base if we put up camp here?" 

"Wow." Muttered Keeler. "Longest phrase you've ever said." 

Blaze growled something incoherent and pressed on even faster, making Keeler have to jog even more to catch up. 

"I've got an idea. You can… carry my rifle and my… survival supplies too! That should… bring our speeds to even!" Keeler said, panting heavily now. 

"Oh good! Then your speed will increase to the point that you're almost good enough to be a fighter pilot!" Blaze replied sarcastically. 

Something about that last phrase seemed odd. Certainly it was regular banter, but you never got regular banter from Blaze. Matt grinned. "Blaze, correct me if I'm mistaken… But was that… humor you attempted there?" 

"Shut up and keep moving, furball." 


	25. Chapter 22

Chapter 22 

"Oi! Wake up!" 

Keeler lazily rubbed his eyes. "Aw, Blaze! What could the time possibly be?" 

"You've been sleeping for 10 hours, night's falling again and we need to move." Husky Seven replied. 

"All right, all right. Let me get my wits about me first." Said Keeler groggily. 

Matt was quite accustomed to sleeping in broad daylight. It was something he got used to during some of his classes at the Academy. 

The dugout they'd used as shelter provided both protection from the elements and camouflage from the enemy. Blaze had rigged it up in less than an hour. He was quite a survivalist. 

"Come on, or I'm bringing the shelter down on you." 

"I'm up!" Keeler yawned. "Geez, ease up, willya?" 

Blaze didn't comment. He covered up whatever traces were left of the dugout and went back to the survival supplies stacked against a tree. He passed Keeler a rifle, a pistol, three grenades, a day's worth of rations and a small shred of paper. 

"What's this?" Keeler asked, turning the paper over in his hands. 

"Crude map." Replied Blaze shortly. "I did some exploring during the day. The base is five hours' trek down that way. We'll be splitting up, so this is our navigation." 

Keeler nodded. Groundside navigation had been one of his stronger points in the academy. 

"The base is set in a valley, has a circular perimeter, with walls around 14 feet high. The free fire zone is nearly a quarter as big as it should be from the southern approach, since the forest hasn't been cleared there yet, so they'll be expecting an attack from that side." 

"Yeah, and who'd be expecting two downed pilots to assault a whole base?" Matt muttered. 

Blaze ignored him. "I need you to pull an ambush. We'll try to skirt around their patrols here…" He said, pointing at the map, "…And we'll split up. I'll go around the outside to the other end. They have a tank there. I want you to fire down on any base personnel you see from the high ground here when I give you the signal. They'll dispatch forces in that direction. I'll take out the troops inside and around the tank, then hijack it. I'll drive into the base to 'reinforce' it, make for a fighter that's powering up to strafe you, hijack that and rush over here, then I'll pick you up and we make a break for the lines at Solar." 

"Fun." Said Keeler. "So basically I'm bait?" 

"More or less." Blaze shrugged. 

"How do I withstand the assault that's sure to come?" 

Blaze pointed at the map again. "The tank team's not too far from their base. I can be in and out to you before they can organize a team to hit you. It's my guess they'll think that there's a whole rebel force out here because no-one's crazy enough to attack single-handedly." 

"And what makes you think you can take on a squad of troops and a tank crew?" 

Blaze's face went from intense to expressionless. "I'll do my job if you do yours." 

Keeler rolled his eyes. "Come on big guy! Drop the act and just tell me what it is about you! I mean, are you insane, did you fail at the Academy, what?! What the hell are you hiding?!" 

"Hey, does it matter?" 

"Yes, it matters!" Keeler said desperately. "Listen, how can I fully trust you if you don't open up? I mean, we're squadmates! We're a team, remember?" 

"And we work as a team. I don't know why you're pressing the matter." Blaze said defensively. 

"So maybe something bad happened in your past you don't want people to know about! Fine! At least tell me how you plan to take out those troops so I can have some peace of mind." 

Blaze seemed to struggle with Keeler's words for a moment. Blaze knew that if Matt was going to function, he would have to know something, at least. 

"All right, have it your way Keeler. I DO have some… physical aspects that are not shared by those hostile troopers." 

Keeler blinked. "Like?" 

For a moment Blaze looked ready to say 'Go to Hell'. But he bit his lip and continued, "You were right before. I did set that trooper on fire, with my bare hands, and I can do it again readily. I'm also virtually immune to very high temperatures and I can rip apart titanium using my claws and arm strength." 

Keeler didn't realize his jaw was hanging until Blaze finished. "Wow… err, anything else to top that?" 

Blaze almost grinned. "Plenty, but you've had your share of details for tonight. Now enough chit-chat, let's get moving." 

Keeler set off in Blaze's wake. _Those abilities are nothing to be ashamed of. I wonder what he's REALLY hiding__._ Matt wondered. 

The duo proceeded silently towards the enemy base, unseen and unheard in the dark Macbeth night. 

_I don't like this._ Thought Matt. _I'd rather be up there with the Squadron with two engines behind me and an array of laser cannons at my fingertips_.

Matt swept his rifle before him nervously. Blaze didn't need to worry- it seemed that a blaster shot would do little more than sting him, or cause a light burn at worst. Suddenly Blaze stopped and signaled for Matt to go left. Matt hadn't heard or seen anything, but he nodded and complied anyway, carefully stepping over branches and sticks in the undergrowth. He kept his rifle aimed ahead, straight down his line of sight. Having lost sight of Blaze, he made sure to be extra cautious, since he was effectively on his own. It was just as he was clearing a bomb crater when he caught sight of something moving in the dark, down in the crater. He smoothly and quietly ducked low, out of sight, trying to control his breathing as he did so. _Don't panic. No-one's shooting._ A few seconds passed, and nothing happened. _They didn't see me._ Matt glanced around momentarily. Blaze was nowhere to be seen. He'd have to deal with it alone. Matt clenched his jaw and cautiously edged over the rim of the crater, exposing only the top of his head and his rifle to whoever was below. 

Despite the distance and poor light, Matt could clearly see that whoever it was down there, it sure wasn't one of those freakish enemy troops. 

In fact, it looked like a Cornerian… boy??? 

Keeler's eyes widened. It was a Cornerian boy! He was pottering around some large rocks in the middle of the crater, and Keeler could hear faint sobs coming from the young tiger. _What's he doing out here?! Is he a refugee from some Macbethan city?_ Keeler stood and descended into the crater, lowering his rifle. The boy gasped in surprise and disappeared behind the rocks. A split second later, he emerged again, aiming a muzzled blaster pistol at Keeler. The boy's eyes were wide with panic. 

Keeler kept his arms from reflexively going for his own weapons. _The last thing I need to do right now is panic too_. Even though his heart was pounding, he kept his voice low and even. 

"Hey kid, put the gun down. Look carefully at me. I'm a Cornerian." 

The boy's hands started trembling and his face remained contorted in panic. One false tremble could set off the pistol. 

Matt raised his paws. "Easy kid, look, I'm not going to shoot you. I'm a Cornerian." _Fancy that. Me calling someone else out here 'kid'._

Then Matt caught sight of something flashing through the tree branches above. _Blaze!_

Matt gestured with his palms for Blaze to hold off. The boy was frightened out of his wits- he didn't really mean any harm and Matt didn't want to harm him. _Don't kill this one, I think I can work this out._

As if Blaze could read his mind, a dark figure in the treetops nodded and held still. 

"I'm not gonna hurt you. Come on, just lower the gun." Matt repeated. 

It took a few seconds, but the panic washed out of the young tiger's face and he lowered his gun, breathing heavily, and beginning to cry. 

Matt sighed in relief. "Whoah. You had me worried there." He crouched down to the boy's eye level. "Hey, what are you doing here? What's going on?" 

The boy kept crying. He couldn't have been older than twelve. What he was doing in a war zone with a blaster was beyond Matt. 

"This is no time for a kids conference." Matt jumped. Blaze was standing behind him, having silently dropped from the trees above. 

The boy almost panicked again, but Matt managed to calm him. "Don't worry, he's a friend." 

Matt paused. 

"Er, I mean _ally_." 

Blaze's eyes narrowed. "Ha ha. I'd just like to remind you, Keeler, that there's three hours until daybreak." 

"We can't leave him here, Blaze." Matt replied flatly. "Hey kid…" 

"Damon." The boy sobbed. 

"Pardon?" 

"My name's Damon." 

Matt nodded slowly. "All right, Damon, where are your parents?" 

Fresh tears formed on the boy's eyes, but he pointed at a couple of crude headstones next to the pile of rocks in the middle of the crater. 

Matt winced. "Oh, sorry." He had one more question, though. "Damon, what are you doing here?" 

"I… I came with my dad. We… we used to live at Venom…" 

"Make it snappy, kiddo." Blaze interrupted. 

"He was an… in the army…" The boy continued between sobs. "He came to our place on… on a space station and said we were leaving… He was flying a different ship than he usually did… He didn't let us tell anyone we were going… We came out here and refueled so we could get to Corneria… but then… then our engines malfunctioned just before they came and we crashed here. Mom died straight away and Dad didn't die until yesterday. I… I…" 

Matt nodded and let the boy go quiet. He glanced at Blaze. 

"What do you think?" 

"Space stations around Venom were strictly for military personnel and their families. These people left in great secrecy, so I don't think they were on leave. My guess is that these guys knew about the attack beforehand and tried to warn someone on Corneria itself rather than try to send a message or pass it through the chain of command." 

Keeler thought for a moment. "He didn't trust them." 

"Exactly. Plus he might have wanted to deliver the spy ship core to Corneria himself." 

Matt frowned. "What makes you think his dad was an intelligence officer?" 

"Take a look around yourself, Keeler." Blaze growled. 

Matt glanced around in puzzlement until his eyes came to rest on the large rocks in the middle of the crater. They were almost symmetrical. 

"Oh shit!" The rocks were actually the wreck of a spy ship, disguised as an asteroid. 

"Don't swear in front of the kid." Muttered Blaze. 

"Now I _know_ that was humor." Keeler strode over to the wreck, looking for an entrance of some sort. _I ain't the kiddy anymore, am I?_ Thought Keeler triumphantly. 

He found his entrance a moment later. It was a wrecked pressure door half buried in the ground. The survivors would have had a hard time squeezing through it injured, but all Matt needed to do was poke his head in. 

He found what he sought a moment later. The spy ship's computer core, intact and in its shielded container. The self-destruct had been removed. 

"Blaze, we got a memory core. Aren't you glad we stopped now?" He said giddily. 

"The intel on that core won't do any good if we can't get it offplanet." Blaze replied. The way he crossed his arms suggested great impatience. 

Matt looked back inside the ship. "I need to find a way to get in there and dislodge that core. I…" 

He felt himself get shoved aside roughly. Blaze grabbed the edges of the opening and literally stretched it wider, without even the slightest signs of exertion. He then crawled inside and slashed at the reinforced box holding the memory core with long claws that seemed to come from his wrists, freeing it from the ship. He pulled the core, armored box an all, free of the ship and stuffed it into his rudimentary backpack. 

"Right, problem solved. Let's go." He started off as though he had done the simplest of tasks. 

When Matt managed to control his amazement, he tugged at the boy's hand, saying "C'mon Damon. Let's go." 

Blaze paused. "We're bringing the kid?" 

"Of course." Matt replied gruffly. "What, you think we should just leave him here?" 

Blaze shook his head, then continued, muttering "This is a bad idea…" 

But he didn't object otherwise, which Matt took as a good sign. 


	26. Chapter 23

Chapter 23 

The personal transport of General Pepper came into sight, a little black speck against the bulk of Corneria. Flanking it were four Arwings recently purchased by the CDF for special missions. 

"Space Station Alpha Central, this is transport Artemis requesting landing clearance." 

Admiral Verenski nodded to the control officer, who started entering codes into his computer. 

"Transport _Artemis_, you are cleared for landing in bay J-22" 

"Acknowledged, Alpha Central. We are following your entry vector." 

Verenski watched the quintet of ships turn and head towards the most secure landing bay on the station. 

"New contacts! Twenty-four, repeat twenty-four long-range fighters, they're broadcasting hostile!" 

Verenski snapped into action. "Shields up! Power up weapons systems but DO NOT FIRE until the General is aboard. Order all capital ships docked to this station to launch and do the same. I want every fighter on this station getting ready to launch."  
Three of the four Arwings moved off to engage the enemy fighters. They had to evade some missile fire at range from the hostile force, but came through virtually unscathed. Then when they were in range, the trio of ships fired Nova Bombs, devastating the enemy force. They then broke up and began engaging in individual dogfights. 

The orbital station shuddered as four battleships and two cruisers detached and moved to a defensive formation. 

Suddenly the station's guns began firing. 

"Enemy fighter group! Another two squadrons skipping in from sector 4B!" 

Verenski shook his head. This would get ugly. 

The second set went straight for Pepper's transport. The Arwing protecting it fired off a couple of Nova Bombs, but the enemy fighters just plowed on ahead. The Arwing broke formation and moved to engage the enemy fighters, taking down another quartet in a head-to-head run. But the remaining fighters, all six of them, went straight for the transport. Even as the Arwing began to turn and line up for another shot, the six fighters were firing their weapons. 

"This is transport _Artemis_, GET THESE FIGHTERS OFF MY BACK!!!" General Pepper's voice roared across the comm. 

The transport, with its reinforced shields, could have taken the concentrated fire long enough for the Arwing to destroy the remaining fighters. But the six attackers didn't stop firing. They closed with the transport and rammed it at full speed, penetrating the shields and detonating, destroying the transport in the blink of an eye. 

"Shit." Was all Verenski could offer. The big puma shook his head and watched as the Arwings destroy what stragglers were left of the enemy force. 

"Order all ships to stay on alert. Bring those Arwings in on the double." 

Verenski glanced once more at the chaos outside the viewport, then started headed for the landing bay… 

"Admiral, wait a second! Jamming reported at Sector X!" 

General Pepper pulled his flight helmet off and slid from the cockpit of his Arwing. The enemy had somehow gotten wind of his latest trip out of the base, which was positively disturbing. 

At least his decoy system had worked. The robot-controlled transport was destroyed while he, safe in his Arwing, had accounted for eighteen kills. If only the entire Defence Force could be re-equipped with the ship. 

Pepper saw the Admiral striding hurriedly towards him. "Admiral Verenski." He saluted. 

Verenski hastily saluted back. "Good to see you made it OK General, but there's been a another situation! It happened just as you were landing!" 

Pepper felt his gut go cold. "What situation?" 

"Follow me." 

Moments later, the two military leaders strode into the control room of the station. On the main screen, a number of blue icons were being driven back by a swarm of red ones. The conflagration was set against the background of Sector X. The recent practice of using the scanners to focus transmissions at last allowed High Command to know what was going on in every battle. 

"They're past our last lines of defense, and troops are entering Base X now." General Pepper observed mournfully. "Order the evacuation of the Base." 

"Look, one enemy battleship's trying to set itself up to engage our escaping transports." Verenski pointed at a large red icon moving around Base X. "It's his fault that he broke formation. I want _Gargantuan_, _Dominant_ and _Liberty_ to pound the hell out of that wreck, then accompany the transports back to Fortuna." 

The battle, when viewed from hundreds of thousands of miles away, did not strike one as being a life-or-death situation. From the control room of Orbital Base Alpha Central, it was just pictures and numbers, a game of strategy. And during this game, Corneria had lost. Now Pepper and Verenski had to cut their losses and set up yet another line of defence at Fortuna. 

But this time, more devastating forces were about to come into play. 

"Sirs, I… The fleet at Solar… It's gone!" Stuttered the sensor officer. 

Both the General and the Admiral stared at the sensor officer. "Umm, elaborate please." Said Pepper. 

The sensor officer punched in a few buttons and put a visual recording up on the main screen. It was Solar, from a distance. The molten planet was surrounded by white-grey specks, which was the Cornerian Fleet in orbit. The whole planet suddenly glowed brighter and flared up, blinding the screen white. When the view resumed to normalcy, the planet was there, as though nothing had happened. But the fleet which was orbiting it had all but disappeared. 

Pepper gaped at the screen. "No contact with anyone? What about the Star Fox team?" 

"All missing sir. I don't know what happened." 

Verenski's eyes narrowed. "Sensors, rewind the recording. Bring up the recording of the battle at Sector X and play it simultaneously" 

The two separate events played on opposite halves of the main screen. The Cornerian Fleet had just wiped out the aggressive battleship and were in full retreat. A number of enemy vessels were docking with Base X. 

That was the exact time when Solar began to glow brighter. 

"Inconclusive." Said Verenski. "Pull up all movements from the enemy in the archives and compare them with recordings on Solar. I want to see a recording of Solar at the exact time when the enemy fleets moved into Sector Z." 

Another set of images came up on the main screen, once again with Solar on the left and a tracking report of enemy fleet movements on the right. An enemy fleet moved into the center of Sector Z… 

And on the recording of Solar, the screen brightened slightly as Solar seemed to flare up for a moment. This time it was little more than a momentary glow, but it did look suspicious nonetheless. 

Pepper glanced curiously at Verenski. "How did you figure that?" 

"I studied both archaeology and physics at the Academy." Said the Admiral. "There is something that links the two. You are familiar with the Astrophysical Catastrophe, I'd expect." 

"I sure am, go ahead." Pepper replied. The Astrophysical Catastrophe occurred nearly two centuries ago, when the planets of the Lylat System ceased to follow the classical laws of physics and began orbiting with the planets farthest out moving fastest and the planets near the Sun orbiting slowest, yet despite the physical impossibility of this they all remained in orbit around Lylat, now moving so that they were all in the same position relative to each other all the time. 

"Well, it has been theorized by archaeologists that the three oddly-shaped dust clouds at Sectors X, Y and Z are linked to, possibly even created by, the civilizations that used to exist on Aquas and Titania." Verenski continued. "And thanks to the Astrophysical Catastrophe, they all remain in the same relative position- at equal distances and angles from Solar." 

"Oh! I've heard of that!" Said Pepper. "The difference in distances from the middle of each dust cloud and the centre of Solar is less than forty miles. And each sector is 120 degrees away from the other, when viewed from Solar." 

"So people think that the three sectors and Solar are linked with each other, and possibly Titania and Aquas, though we've never found much to that end." Verenski thought for a moment. "Sensors, was there anything coming from Sector X when Solar flared up?" 

The sensor officer checked his screens. "Got it! Energy spike, some sort of massive comms transmission across just about every frequency, aimed directly at Solar. This happened around three seconds before the burst at Solar. The burst at Solar blasted radiation and energy of all kinds in every direction. Electromagnetic, hyperelectromagnetic, psionic, distortive, you name it, Solar had it. I think we're dealing with technology way beyond us here, sirs." 

The General and the Admiral glanced at each other. "This is bad." 


	27. Chapter 24

Chapter 24 

Corneria had changed little since the last time Bill had seen it. He had originally come to Corneria with Perry to visit Perry's wife. Now, though, he had a much different agenda. 

The door opened after Bill's third knock. "Bill! It's been a while" 

"Fara, good to see you again." 

The vixen opened the door fully, allowing Bill access to her house. It was a quiet place in what was otherwise one of Corneria's busiest suburbs. 

"Fara, I have news. About Fox." Bill suddenly blurted out. I guess I could have been a bit more subtle… 

Fox had met the vixen during the first Lylatian war. The two had taken a liking to each other and had recently gotten engaged. Seven years was a long time for it, but they certainly loved each other. 

"Tell me." Fara said quietly. 

Bill took a deep breath. "The forces around Solar have disappeared. We don't know how, but the official story is that they vanished after a freak flare-up. The entire Star Fox team was there." 

Fara sat down. "No word from Fox?" 

Bill shook his head. 

"Any sign of wreckage?" 

"Well High Command's not giving away much, but they're saying that there's no wreckage whatsoever. The fleet just vanished." 

Fara seemed to be taking it well. There had to be that hope that somehow Fox had made it out or that the fleet had not been instantly annihilated. After all, fleets didn't really just vanish without a trace. 

"That doesn't make sense." Fara replied. Despite her matter-of-fact words, her tone reflected the slightest hint of fear and worry. 

"I'm sure Fox is fine." Bill said. "He's disappeared like this before." He didn't add 'Albeit not with an entire Cornerian fleet.'

Fara nodded. "He's probably just hiding somewhere." 

"Yeah." Bill said. Bill felt a lot more worried than Fara looked, though. 

_Fox buddy, wherever you are, you'd better start letting us know what's going on._

Matt thought his head would explode from the silence when Blaze finally turned and whispered to him. 

"All right Keeler, we split up here. You take the boy and head north until you reach the top of that hill. I'll be down that way. When I'm ready I'll give you the signal." 

"Wait, what's the signal?" 

"I'll set fire to something big. If you see anything at all catch fire, that's your cue." 

"Won't they see the fire?" 

Blaze shrugged. "I need you to be seen more." 

"All right." Matt nodded and raised his rifle. "Good luck." 

"You'll need it." Blaze replied, then he slung his rifle over his shoulders and leapt up into the treetops. 

That man never ceases to amaze.

"Come on." Said Matt, moving quickly but silently in the direction Blaze had specified. Damon followed just as quickly, but not as quietly. Matt was rapidly going from watchful to twitchy with the noise behind him. Neither of them said a word as they made their way uphill. When Matt thought he was on the highest point possible, he went into a prone position, set his rifle and waited. He noticed Damon sitting up, nervously fingering his pistol 

"Get down, Damon. We don't want to be seen." 

"Sorry, I forgot." The boy complied, getting down into a prone position beside Matt. He kept his pistol pointed towards the base, a walled fortress with searchlights pointing in every direction. 

"Nice gun." Said Matt. He had thought it a good idea to let the boy keep his weapon so he could defend himself, and though this voided any status he had as a non-combatant, Matt had little doubt the enemy would kill the boy anyway. 

"Thanks, it's not mine." Replied the boy. "It was my dad's." 

Obviously. _That high-powered pistol is the kind you would only give to intelligence officers. It was easily recognized as a J-Tech Type 3 Magnum blaster, horrendously powerful and accurate, despite a poor rate of fire. If it was fitted with a specialized second muzzle, as this one was, the light and sound would be eliminated, at the cost of a little power. That pistol's accuracy would be more devastating in my hands._

Matt was just about to ask if they could swap pistols when he saw a tree begin to go up in flames on the opposite side of the base. "Stay low, keep your head down Damon. This could get rough." 

Matt took a deep breath to calm himself, then lined up his rifle to one black-clad guard patrolling the top of the base's wall. 

The red bolt crossed the intervening distance nearly instantaneously. Matt clearly saw the guard's head snap back and his body crumple to the ground. Despite the fact that many of the troops in the base were little more than specks at the distance he was at, the sudden confusion was evident. He lined up another shot and fired a quick burst, taking out another enemy troop. He had just gotten ready for another shot when red bolts came back in his direction, causing him to snap off the shot early and miss high. Though none of the return fire hit, it came far closer than he liked. 

_They are good troops._

Matt backed up and started crawling to another spot so he could fire without being fired upon. He beckoned for Damon to follow, but as he crawled, he noticed the fire following him, striking excessively close to his body. He decided to reduce his exposure and move deeper into a ditch. _They've probably got night-vision goggles too_. Matt exposed his head to look for the barest of moments, but a laser shot missed by an inch, singeing his fur, and causing him to duck out of panic. But he had to keep the diversion up, and he took advantage of the ditch to move along unseen, then popped up around ten meters down, snapping off a quick burst before ducking away from a storm of enemy fire. From a brief glimpse, Matt saw that it was actually a patrol coming up the hill, rather than sniper fire from the enemy base. He pulled a grenade from his flightsuit's pocket, and pressed the detonator button. 

He waited three seconds, then threw it out of his ditch, in the direction of the oncoming patrol. Someone downhill shouted "MOVE!!!" 

The grenade went off, and Matt rose for another shot. He was rewarded with the sight of one body going into the air, propelled by the explosion. Three other figures were on their feet, running away from the blast. Matt took down two of them with automatic fire before a few shots came too close, making him duck for cover again. 

_Dammit, hurry up Blaze._

Damon, meanwhile, was keeping close and quiet, sitting against the ditch's wall, facing away from the gunfire. Matt was just going to tell him to move back down the ditch when the boy's eyes widened and he fired a shot into the woods behind them. An enemy troop fell from the trees in the distance. Some red laser bolts were fired hastily from somewhere else behind their position, but Matt quickly put a single shot right into the offending soldier. 

"How did you do that?" Asked Matt, amazed. 

"My dad taught me how to shoot and fly." Said the boy sheepishly. "I've been told I'm pretty good." 

"Damon, you _are_ good." Matt chuckled. _He should join Husky squadron when he gets older._

At that moment, a tank and two fighters started coming over the hill. The tank fired a shot which exploded behind the ditch. The fighters started lining up for a strafing run. 

_If Blaze doesn't get here soon…_

With a flash of its laser cannons, the second fighter fired directly into the middle of the first, utterly destroying it, then it fired a missile at the tank, reducing it to a burning hulk. 

"Yeah! Go Blaze!!!" Yelled Matt. 

The fighter circled, then dropped a bomb, clearing a large crater near Matt's position. Matt nodded to Damon and the duo charged towards the flaming bomb site, getting there just in time to see the ship touch down. The cockpit canopy opened, revealing that it was a two-seater. Blaze beckoned for Matt to run, and run he did. He vaulted into the fighter, then helped Damon inside. Damon took a seat in the small personal cargo compartment behind the seats. 

"Hang on! We're lifting off!" Blaze gunned the throttle upwards, but the ship did not have the same power as the Kodiaks of Husky Squadron. Just as the fighter was taking off, an anti-aircraft cannon opened up nearby, stabbing into the side of the fighter as it began to move away. 

"I could use some acceleration now!" Grunted Blaze. Another shot glanced the engine as the ship began to move out of range. 

Blaze checked the damage console. "Not good! I can't keep her airborne too long. I'll get as far away as possible, then ditch this piece of junk." 

As it turned out, he managed to fly on for another five minutes, evading additional fighters and finally finding a good landing spot. 

"Hold on, this could be rough!" Blaze yelled. A fire broke out on the right wing, but he ignored it, instead bringing the bucking fighter into a slow descent. As the ship hit the field, it became apparent to all three occupants that the shuddering wreck would skid much farther than expected. It smashed into the forest bordering the clearing, bringing down trees and deforming the leading edges of the once sleek fighter. Despite this, though, Blaze had managed a relatively safe crash landing in the forested area. 

"Great. This is the second time for all of us." Growled Matt. 

Damon looked despairing and Blaze seemed unfazed by the setback. 

Matt looked down at the consoles before him. They were still functional. 

Blaze opened the canopy and some smoke began to waft in. "Let's get out of this mess." 

Matt, however, was in thought. "Blaze, how long until they find us?" 

"Matt? The ship's burning. Let's get out." Blaze, for the first time, seemed confused. He had also called Matt by his first name. 

But Keeler had grabbed a small cylinder the size of a water bottle from under his seat. 

"Put out the fire. I got an idea that needs this fighter." 

Blaze took the fire extinguisher and started spraying it on the fire. "If it is, it's going to have to take less than fifteen minutes. That's when enemy troops start getting here." 

Matt had already started overriding the ship's computer systems. He began configuring it to accept unusual commands and transmit on non-regulation frequencies. 

_They say Pawson's a master mechanic, who can modify ship components and systems to do anything. Well here I go, in that other critical field of combat aviation; the onboard computers._

"Fire's out!" Said Blaze. "Fourteen minutes." 

"Blaze, I need you to rig the comm system to be connected to the sensor array, just like what we did during the battle." 

Blaze ripped into the fighter, reconnecting wires and systems to Matt's specifications.

"Keeler, of you're going to call for help, you might want to consider that you put others in jeopardy by doing that."

"I'm not calling for help." Matt replied bluntly. "I'm sending the information on that computer core to High Command via this thing's comm system. Give me the core."

"It's in the pack, down in the cargo compartment." Blaze replied. "Thirteen minutes."

Damon was already picking up the box and handing it to Matt. Matt hefted it into his lap, then started connecting its output to the ship's transmitters.

"And what if the message is intercepted?"

"I'm counting it won't be. I'm transmitting it on a tight beam, so unless there's a ship directly between us and Katina it'll slip through undetected. And, I'm programming this thing to use an encrypted Katinian fleet frequency. If they detect it, they won't know what it says."

Blaze still seemed dubious. He pulled two pistols from his pockets and held them 'gangsta style', aiming out towards the likely direction of an enemy approach. "Hurry up, Keeler."

The console before Matt flashed up the words 'Signal Lock' and displayed the image of a Katinian Communications controller. The controller looked at the screen.

"This is Katina Fleet Command… Hang on, who the hell are you?!"


	28. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

A beep from Bill's comm terminal interrupted his conversation with Perry.

"Hold on Perry, I got an incoming call listed as 'High priority'."

The Silk Terrier on the other end gave Bill a look of intrigue. "All right. Let me know what it says."

"Sure thing."

Bill switched to his second channel, to be faced with a black screen. A mechanical voice said "State name, rank and position for identity verification."

"Command… er… _Colonel_ Bill Grey, Husky Leader, Katina Starfighter Command." Bill replied.

"Voiceprint confirmed." Replied the message, then Admiral Hendrix appeared on the screen. He was wearing a tuxedo, which suggested he had recently been to a formal gathering, though from what Bill could see behind the lion, Hendrix was obviously at his office on Katina's main spacedock.

"Colonel Grey, good to see you. I have a matter which requires your urgent attention. Report to my office here by 2000 hours."

Bill blinked. "Woah, Slow down there Admiral. What's going on?"

"You will be briefed on the situation at my office. Come quickly, or it will be out of my hands." Hendrix hung up, and the screen went to static.

Bill remained quiet for a moment out of surprise and confusion, then he went back to Perry.

"Who was it?" Asked Perry.

"Hendrix." Bill replied. "He wants me to meet him on the double. Guess I'd better go."

"Wait up!" Said Perry. "I may as well come too!"

Bill gave him a wry look. "Hey, you're on leave. Don't you have some bar to trash?"

"Sorry. Been there, done that three nights in a row. I think I'll skip the hangover tonight and come with you."

Bill reached for his Husky Squadron jacket. "All right then. Meet me at the Starport terminal in an hour." 

Bill glanced out the viewport of the Orbital Fleet Dock. Most of the Katinian Fleet was there, sporting pressurized scaffolding where there would be holes or gashes along the side of the ships. The _Archangel_, Bill could see, was receiving extra special attention from the repair crews, with nearly twice as much scaffolding and repair ships buzzing around than the next-biggest ship in the fleet, the _Decklon_. A Cornerian Battleship was also in dock, with its crew on shore leave on Katina.

The dull-grey droid at the desk beeped twice. "Colonel Grey? The Admiral will see you now." It said in a monotone voice.

Bill nodded and left Perry with the droid. When he walked into the office, he found Hendrix consulting some notes on a holographic display.

"Colonel Grey, welcome. Take a seat- um, someone 'appropriated' my good chairs while we were on deployment so I apologize in advance."

"None necessary, sir." Bill said, though he squirmed as he sat on a ridiculously small wooden stool before the Admiral.

"Now Colonel, to business-" Said the admiral, "-Which is entirely unofficial and at this moment between you and me."

Bill nodded warily. "All right, at this moment, between you and me."

"Very well." The Admiral hit a button on his desk and a video replay appeared on the hologram suspended to Bill's left.

Bill's eyes widened.

"Keeler?!"

"Flyer Keeler, yes. We received this message twenty-two hours ago."

"He's alive?!"

"It gets better. Watch." Replied Hendrix.

Bill listened to the recording. Keeler had been trying to contact someone in authority, and was now giving his name, rank and position to the listener.

"… I flew with Husky Squadron over Macbeth, but was shot down. I found Blaze Walters, Husky Seven…"

Bill grinned. _I had a small suspicion he might have made it._

"… and we happened upon the memory core of a Cornerian spyship. It's intact, and we suspect it might hold vital information. I'm sending the data to you through a downed enemy fighter."

"Stand by, we are readying to receive." Said a voice on the other end of the line. "OK! Go now!"

Keeler pressed some buttons and data stream started pouring down the left margin of the transmission. After a few moments he said "Upload 50% complete."

That's when Bill heard a grinding noise.

"That- that sounds like a tank!" He commented.

Blaze's voice suddenly came through clearly, though he was nowhere to be seen in the picture. "KEELER! GET OUT!!!"

Keeler looked away in surprise and he quickly pulled a lever, activating the rear ejector seat. He vanished from the picture, still clutching the memory core, and as the wires he had used to connect the core to the ship came loose, the data stream ceased and the word "error" replaced it. A moment later there was a bright flash and the transmission was cut off completely.

Hendrix closed the replay. "The portion of the download we did receive proved very useful. It explained the whole invasion plan of the enemy _in detail_ and was accurate to the words right up until our first clash at Macbeth."

"What changed?"

"We got away. That wasn't meant to happen. So the whole debacle that occurred there the second time was something of a re-plan. Still, the intelligence package detailed two incursions into Allied space and a large-scale occupation of Zoness. You may not have heard it, but the two incursions were halted by the Cornerians, and Zoness was indeed invaded a few hours ago. The resistance is strong, thanks to the early warning, but I'm afraid it too is likely to fall soon."

But Bill had other thoughts on his mind. The Admiral could see this.

"Colonel, I am sorry, but I cannot put resources and men towards the rescue of two of your pilots from an enemy fortress world. We could lose a whole fleet doing that."

Bill sighed. "Admiral, is there nothing you can do?"

"As your Admiral I must safeguard everyone- and that means everyone available to us. Those two are far away, and not available to us."

Bill nodded reluctantly.

"However, though we are of different rank, I am still a combatant, and I understand what this must mean to you, and probably to your squadron too. I feel perhaps your people may need a morale boost. So though I have responsibility to you, I could turn a blind eye just this once…"

"What do you mean?" Asked Bill excitedly.

"Take it easy, Bill." The Admiral lowered his voice. "This is classified information. All spyship memory cores have a tracker beacon, which broadcasts using a form of radiation that is undetectable except by highly specialized scanners. Using these scanners you could track down your downed pilots- and retrieve what information we did not receive from the memory core." The admiral pulled out a small black card from his pocket; a miniature datapad, and began reading from it.

"Tomorrow, there will be two unattended transports fuelled and ready at Bay 22-K, Katina City Base. The guards for the armory will be, distracted, shall we say? The armory will contain one of these tracking scanners for the memory core, as well as enough weapons for a small band to mount a covert rescue.

All of your fighters will be fueled and combat ready for an extra-long mission, and again, unattended. This is all from 0900 to 1100 hours, which is when I have a friend on air traffic duty willing to overlook a small matter such as a pair of combat transports and some starfighters making an unannounced departure."

Hendrix paused, letting Bill soak it all in, then continued. "The travel time of a combat transport to Macbeth from here is roughly 44 hours in warp. So, in three day's time there is a long-range bomber strike on Macbeth, which will busy the invaders for about four hours. Do you understand?"

Bill smiled. "Fully, sir. And I know that we never had this conversation."

The lion grinned in return. "Of course. It wouldn't do to order you off on a suicide mission, but if you took it upon yourselves, well nobody could be held responsible if you failed. And if you succeed, well, you'll all be heroes."


	29. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Bill watched as the other five members of Husky Squadron arrived, one-by-one to the bar he had invited them to. Each had been sworn to secrecy, and each had no idea what Bill had in store for them.

He gulped down the rest of his whiskey and walked out into the main area of the bar, waving to his pilots. They returned the wave, and silently headed over to the secluded, nondescript corner Bill was sitting in. All were in regular civilian garb, instead of the flight jackets they would usually wear.

Bill waited until they were all seated, then began talking quietly.

"This needs to be kept quiet. Earlier tonight, I learned that Matthew Keeler and Blaze Walters were alive and uncaptured on Macbeth."

At this both Ben and Fuzzy gave Bill hopeful glances.

"Sorry boys, _only_ Keeler and Walters were confirmed alive." The other two pilots nodded sadly, but made no further gesture or comment.

"Are we going in?" Asked Terry.

"High Command hasn't authorized a mission, but yes, we are going in. Some arrangements have been made for tomorrow, and I'll go over the details with you when we're a bit closer to the launch time. This is a very dangerous mission, and I'm not ordering you to come along, just asking for volunteers."

At this, all his pilots made noises of acceptance.

_I should have expected as much. We're Huskies._ Bill thought.

"So everyone's in? No-one has any plans for the next week or so?"

"Hey, who has _plans?_" Said Benny. "What plans could be more important than this?"

The other pilots roared their agreement.

"All right, keep it down!" Bill held up a warning finger. "This isn't going to be easy. This bar isn't the time or place for mission planning, so I've got it all set out for you. Here's what we do…"

As the Sun of the Lylat System began to climb higher into Katina's sky, six pilots casually traveled together through the Katina City base, mixing inconspicuously amongst the other military personnel. None of them were wearing identification tags, rank or unit patches, and all had their helmet visors down.

They came to a branching corridor. Wordlessly, three of them went down the path on the right and the other three went left. Bill Grey, the one walking at the head of the latter pilots, signaled for the others to halt. He walked to a window and peered out.

Two transports and the six surviving fighters sat on the launchpad, apparently fuelled and unattended. Bill turned back and nodded at his two followers. Together, they walked past a pilot's briefing room, a ready room, and a walkway before emerging onto the launchpad. The whole time they had passed nobody.

"All right, Benny, Fuzzy, go and activate the systems on the two transports. I'll rev up two of the fighters, but don't start engines until the signal."

They nodded and headed off to the two big transports. Each had heavy duty shields and hull, with rapid-fire lasers on pintle mounts to the sides and rear, and a fixed medium laser cannon to the fore. They were perfectly suited for the ground assault Bill had in mind.

The plan was for two fighters to escort the two transports to Macbeth, arriving under the cover of a routine Long-Range bomber strike. Benny and Fuzzy would fly the transports, while Bill and Francine would provide fighter escort. Terry and Perry would be manning the weapons. Perry was especially useful as a former commando- he was one crack shot.

A cough behind Bill caused him to turn. Sticks Cordan, Gus Burke and Derek Zeeman, the three squadron leaders of Bill's command, as well as Fara Phoenix and 6 survivors from Fang, Demon, Bulldog and Lightning squadrons had silently walked out onto the launchpad.

"Sticks… Guys, what're all of you doing here?!" Bill asked in surprise.

Cordan smiled and glanced out at the ships powering up on the launchpad. "The Admiral happened to leave a datacard unattended in his office. You didn't think you'd be leaving without us, eh?"

"The Colonel needs his men." Added Zeeman. The stallion pointed at Bill. "You need our help. There's no denying it."

"Besides, we've been getting bored down here." Gus, the kangaroo with the country drawl, yawned. "We've been waiting to get some payback for Macbeth."

"And I'm tired of sitting at home, doing administrative jobs whilst pilots are out there dying." Fara stared out into the sky. "I'm tired of waiting for Fox. I have to do something which _really_ helps this war effort."

Bill raised his paws. "Hold on there, guys. This is a Husky Squadron mission to rescue fellow Huskies. You don't need to endanger yourselves."

"We're not endangering ourselves." Said Sticks. "We're protecting you and your men."

"And we owe your pilots our lives." One of the two Lightning Squadron survivors chimed in.

"That's right, and now you need to keep your lives." Bill made a gesture of exasperation. "Listen, I don't need any of you on my conscience for this mission. It's too dangerous."

Gus snorted. "That's why we're coming. How do you think it would stand if Husky squadron were wiped out and the only remaining Wing Commander left on the _Archangel_ went down with it?"

"Then Sticks would get the job." Replied Zeeman.

"ALL IS LOST!" Cried Gus. Sticks could only reply with a 'Hey!'

Bill found a grin coming to his face despite himself. "Is there _anything_ that'll keep you back?"

"No." Was the reply in unison.

Bill sighed deeply and glanced at the ground. For a moment all were wondering what he was going to do, when he suddenly burst out giving orders.

"All right, Sticks, Gus, Derek and Fara, power up the other four fighters. You six from their squadrons, get into the transports and help in any way you can. Gunnery, support, mechanics, anything. I want us all ready to leave in ten minutes, let's move it!"

Perry, Francine and Terry emerged onto the launchpad to find six fighters and two transports powering up, all sporting full crew and pilots.

"Uh, did we miss something?" Asked Francine as she ran to her fighter.

"Bill! What's going on?" Shouted Perry.

"Some friends came to help." Bill shouted back. Some of the extra pilots waved.

"That's Sticks… Bill?! You made them come?!"

Bill shook his head. "They came of their own accord, and do you really think I could stop them?"

Perry though a moment. "Point taken. Where are those guys from the other squadrons going?"  
"They'll be manning the guns with you." Bill replied. "What's the loot?"

Perry pointed at the two crates Francine and Terry were pulling out. "Plenty of small-arms, rifles, automatics, snipers, laser cannons, launchers, grenades, medikits and of course the tracker."

"Good." Bill clambered into his cockpit and flicked some switches. "Get them loaded onto the transports, we go now!"

Perry nodded and ran back to the crates, helping the other two pilots push them up the ramps into the waiting transports.

Bill checked all his systems, making sure all lights were green. Then he started his communications.

"This is Husky Leader, all craft report!" _This is it. Back in my element._

"Husky Five, Standing by."

"Bulldog Leader, standing by."

"Fang Leader, standing by."

"Demon Leader, All systems go."

"Starfox Five…" Fara giggled. "Ready for action."

"This is Husky Four, All systems go."

"Husky Twelve here, ready for launch."

"All right." Bill felt himself relax as he began working his starfighter's controls. His movements were natural to him- it was what he was best at. "Aim for the clouds. Go full throttle after me." Bill activated his repulsor engine and felt his craft begin to float upwards. He noticed all the ships around him doing the same. Bill pulled the nose of his fighter up so that it was aiming straight up.

Then he started the main engine and pumped in full throttle.

Around him, the other starfighters and the two transports accelerated away from the base, all headed for the same distant point- Macbeth.

In the control tower overlooking the Katina City Base, a young Traffic Control officer began relaying data to her superior.

"Eight unscheduled launches from Bay 22-K. Sir, what's that about?"

The supervisor, a middle-aged raccoon, smiled sagely. "That one's confidential. Forget you ever saw it."

The young officer paused, before nodding and returning to her work. "Understood sir."


	30. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

"Your ceaseless curiosity is beginning to bug me." Said Blaze.

Matt opened one eye, confused. "Blaze, what? I was just about to fall asleep." He sat up, looking in the general direction of Blaze's voice. Their latest hideout was one of Macbeth's abundant mine shafts. It was cold, gloomy and pitch black inside, but at least it was dry, and the labyrinthine tunnels would be daunting to search even for the super-soldiers of the enemy. Of course, Blaze could safely and easily find his way around, though he seemed to have gotten mildly agitated in recent days.

"Blaze, what?" Matt repeated. "I didn't say anything before."

"Your thoughts ring out clearly." Blaze replied. Or rather Blaze's voice- in the thick darkness Matt was virtually talking into an abyss, with Blaze's voice floating back to him. Blaze could be far away and talking loudly, for all Matt knew.

Matt frowned. "So now you're psychic?"

"No, I've just been annoyed by the ceaseless questions you ask during the day, and the way you keep shuffling around in thought every night."

"So why did you point that out right at the threshold of my slumber, when I wasn't bothering you?" Matt said, getting slightly annoyed himself.

"Because your questions keep bothering me, even when you're asleep." Blaze replied softly. At this Matt started, for the tone was not Blaze's usual cold, stern voice, but a softer, less rigid voice that Matt had never heard from Blaze.

"You have questions for me, and they remain unanswered. And as annoying as you are, I do respect your persistence." Blaze remained silent for a while before continuing; "There's a good chance we might never make it off this rock. Ever since we sent that data to High Command, I've been half-hoping for a rescue but now I guess rationale states that one isn't coming."

Matt was shocked. This wasn't Blaze he was talking to. "Hey, listen, even if rescue doesn't come we can find our own way out. C'mon, you're the one who's usually telling _me_ this"

"We can't be sure we will make it out, eh?" Blaze sighed. "I say again, you have questions for me. Ask them now, while we're both breathing and the child is asleep."

Matt glanced where Damon should have been, but of course he couldn't see a thing, he only heard the boy's soft breathing.

"All right." Matt felt resolve rise in him. For long he had been eager to learn about Blaze's past, but now, suddenly, he was not excited by the opportunity. He felt that perhaps what he wanted would be granted, but what he would get would be totally unexpected and even unwanted once he got it. Still, whatever dark secrets Blaze had, Matt was still prepared to hear out.

"Who are you?" Matt asked.

Blaze was quiet again, this time for quite a while. But Matt did not press, he suddenly did not wish to put this new Blaze to trial.

Blaze, however, found words at last and his story began to spin forth.

"Matt, this is the whole story. I am young- even younger than you, even younger than Damon there. You might find that hard to believe, but it's true. I am around eight years old by Cornerian standards.

I guess that doesn't make sense. All right, from the beginning, as far back as I can remember. And the furthest back I can remember, I was waking up in a hospital bed, little more than seven years ago. My head hurt and my joints creaked as I tried to move them. I didn't remember or recognize anything- sure I remembered how to speak and some basic things like that but my name, my past, everything, all gone. Not even a passing shadow of a memory was left in my mind.

For many days, I lay in the bed, slipping in and out of consciousness. It was all a painful blur, punctuated by brief glimpses of bodies under shrouds in beds around me and victims coming in with missing limbs, or horribly burned skin. 

Finally, after two weeks, the nurse that had been assigned to me- Siara, I think she was- told me why I was in the hospital.

I had been brought out of the Katina Redlands following the great massacre there, near the end of the war with Andross. His last bio-weapons were sent to the densely populated zone to do as much damage to Katina as possible. Hundreds of civilians died, nearly everyone in that settlement. Those that remained had been hiding underground or had fled early. 

I was told that in the fury of the ensuing battle, I had been knocked out cold by an explosion from a starfighter's Nova Bomb, and had miraculously survived with minimal injuries. In the space of time I had been unconscious, Andross had been overthrown and his forces were completely shattered at their strongest point, Area 6.

For the next week while I fully recovered in hospital, I asked plenty of questions and used whatever resources I could, but nobody could find any background on me. I was just another person without a history, who had lost his past in the war. The hospital had actually gotten a few cases that had lost their memory after a crash, or a cataclysmic event so I was by no means special.

So when I left the hospital, I gave myself the name Brad Walters, a plain, unnoticeable name, and went about trying to build a life for myself.

It wasn't easy. I couldn't get shelter because nobody knew who I was, and I was forced to live in a homeless shelter. I met plenty of good people there, I still remember. Some of them were other survivors of the Redlands massacre who had lost their homes. They took pity on me, because I lost my home and my life.

Because I didn't have a background, I couldn't get a job easily, and I had to scrape money together by street cleaning during the day, and drug-dealing by night. I busted the cash I got on drugs and alcohol, usually.

I lived that way for two months. One night on my way to my usual watering hole, I saw the flashing blue lights of a police speeder outside the joint, and a couple of my rival dealers were getting busted. Luckily for me I was still really far away, and went into the nearest nightclub I could find. It was a bit classier than my usual joint, and there were a lot of military guys there, most of them starfighter pilots. I sat down, and went about being discreet.

Well, I sat down right next to what looked like an arcade game of some sort, but in fact it was a compact, one-on-one flight simulator. A half-drunk pilot challenged me to a match, and I replied that I hadn't flown anything before, not even on a computer.

Well, he persisted, and promised to buy me a round if I tried, win or lose.

I lost. I landed a few blows onto his wing, but he had blasted me apart within 30 seconds. After the simulation, he stepped out, came up to me and clapped me on the back.

He was very deeply impressed. "You say you've never flown before, and even though I wasn't really going that hard on you, I think you flew really, really well. In fact, some pilots I know wouldn't have held me off for more than 20 seconds."

He was one William Grey, a well-respected and well-known fighter pilot.

I came to that bar more and more often, and I flew against more and more pilots, beating a few of them. Eventually I was faced with a whole bar of pilots encouraging me to join the Starfighter Corps.

Again, this wasn't easy, given that I had no past, and security had to be sure I was genuinely an amnesiac, and medical had to be sure I had no mental conditions that could suddenly cause me to lose control in the middle of a mission. But Bill pulled a few strings and got medics to vouch for my amnesia, and soon I was posted with Bulldog Squadron. The guys were really curious about me, and I got on with them reasonably well, but when it came to my past, I had nothing to tell. Many of them thought I was feigning amnesia, but at the time, my past didn't exist.

I had some interesting times there, fighting pirates and the like. 

I remember this one time, we caught a squad of six pirate ships raiding a Cornerian freighter. It was only me and my three flight-mates out there, so the numbers were tipped in their favour, but we had better ships and weapons. We shot three of them to pieces and the rest buzzed off. I nailed one as it was running- it was an invader jet, an ex-member of the Venomian armed forces. This triggered something in the very back of my mind, something telling me there was a memory back there, somehow linked to the invader jet or to Venom, but what it was, I didn't get until much later. 

After my skills got to par, Bill invited me to Husky and I accepted immediately. It was then that I found my past.

A mission which landed us in Venom hunting terrorists saw me paired up with Bill as we explored a previously unknown Venomian base. We had just wiped out half a squadron of Andross Liberation Group jets and had discovered the staging area of the terror organization. We called for ground troops, but we were told it'd be a couple of hours before they arrived, due to a timing error. Bill made the call straight away. Some were already escaping, and we had to snag them there and then. Half the squadron landed, and we went off in groups of two. Bill and I broke into the computer core of the base, and found an abundance of files and documents, an intelligence agent's dream.

It was there that we recovered some documents of Andross' last bio-weapon experiments. I was in one of the files, and had been given the registration number 2-FBW-101. I was one of the creatures they sent to kill and maim in the closing stages of the war. I wasn't another victim of the Redlands massacre. I was one of the bio-weapons that Andross sent to wreak havoc. I had to have killed at least one hundred civilians.

I basically went catatonic. Now that I'd found my past, I wanted more than anything for it to disappear again. I expected Bill to flip. But he just said he'd deal with it later. He destroyed my file there and then, and we finished the raid quickly, though I was in something of a surreal world at the time.

So, in his office some days afterwards, he asked if I'd told anyone about what we'd found out. 

I said I hadn't, and he asked if I had no recollection of events beforehand whatsoever. 

I said that before I found out about my past, I didn't remember a thing. But in the days following, pieces of my memory had started coming back.

He considered this for a moment, and told me that I shouldn't worry about the past and just remember that I wasn't under Andross' control anymore, and since I was a completely different person who had truly made a fresh start from that hospital bed, I should look to the future and do what I can do for the forces of good. He encouraged me to develop my powers, (and gave me the nickname Blaze) so that if I continued to feel remorse for things I had done in the past, even if I wasn't in control of my own mind at the time, I could at least atone in some way by using my powers to serve the people of Katina.

Still, he forbade me from telling anyone until I was ready to reveal who I truly was, or until I felt the squadron was ready to accept who I was. 

So that's the answer to your questions. I am responsible, at least in part, for the massacre of hundreds at Redlands. I have no childhood or even teenage past, I have no family, I was born for destruction, and though I do it from a cockpit in the sky, not as a ball of flame on the ground, I still carry out that singular purpose in my life, and that is no exaggeration. The only thing I do is destroy. I am a weapon created by Andross in his laboratories, I am 2-FBW-101."


	31. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

A very long, awkward silence followed Blaze's tale. Finally, Matt muttered "Shit."

"See?" Replied Blaze. "It's a past I shouldn't have wanted to know about, and it's not a pretty one to listen to."

"But you told me," Said Matt, "Because you think no-one else will ever find out about you if we don't ever get off Macbeth?"

"Yes," Blaze sighed heavily. "But there's something about you, Matt. Something that tells me I can trust you. You've got that same commanding aura that Bill's got, you seem to genuinely care, and have a maturity far beyond your years, when it comes down to it. No other person anywhere, save Bill and Lieutenant Bastion knows about this story, and having spent so long around you lately, makes me think that you would be the only person I'd spill this to anyway."

Matt was taken aback. He had lost count of the number of days he and Blaze had been berating and annoying each other, and suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Blaze had told him everything.

"Well, now that you know who I am," Blaze started, "Do you now see why I didn't tell anyone? I'm a mass murderer. I wouldn't be trusted by anyone, and I don't want that to happen."

Keeler didn't think long before he replied, and when he did his voice was far more reasoned and mature than it usually was.

"Blaze, you're wrong there in many ways. First, they'd trust you even more if you told them the whole story."

"How could they possibly trust me if they know the truth? I worked for the other side."

"Plenty of people worked for Venom, who now work just about anywhere in the armed forces. For another thing, your sole purpose is not destruction. You've convinced yourself of that since you learned your past. You think that just because 2-FBW-something was made for destruction, it's your sole purpose in life. But that's wrong, Blaze. You are not 2-FBW-1-whatever. He died with Andross. _His_ purpose was destruction, but he's dead now. _He_ was behind the Redlands Massacre, but he's dead now. Don't you see? You're not him. You are Blaze Walters, and you've been free to make you own life for seven years, and you were doing pretty damn well until you found out about FBW. What happened to Blaze Walters then? You made yourself the way you are- now you can unmake it. When we get off this planet, you forget everything about your old self. Forget about the war, forget about the destruction. You just do something you always see us doing, find a new purpose, get alive. You've been dying inside for so long you may as well."

Now it was Blaze's turn to be stunned. Try as he might, he couldn't force himself to argue Matt's point. The young pilot was right, in every single way. What had he been doing? He _had_ been slowly killing himself, reducing himself to what he saw in that file years ago.

"You… Do you really think the others'll trust me more if I spill my story? All of it?"

"I'm sure of it." Replied Keeler confidently. "They'll understand all of it. Trust me, even if a couple of them don't, we can explain it to them. That's the problem: you haven't been around them at all, so you don't realize that they're all good, decent people."

Blaze went quiet again. When his voice returned it had regained its former confidence and strength, the way Matt was used to hearing it, but this time it carried a sense of hope- not the old cynicism.

"All right. _When_ we get off this rock, I'll tell everyone."

"That's the spirit." Matt almost applauded. "Thanks Blaze, for letting me hear it. Your story, I mean."

"No, thank you for hearing me out." Replied Blaze. "And thank you for helping me out."

It was some time later, in that blackness, when they started hearing explosions. They were distant enough to be little more than thuds which caused only the slightest vibrations in the mine, but the trio knew that a well placed hit could bring the whole shaft down.

"Cruise missiles or long range bombing, I think" Said Blaze. "Get Damon up, we're going."

Matt quietly roused the young boy and Blaze switched on a flashlight. The long, cavernous shaft that they had taken refuge in continued on straight for a near endless distance in both ways, and Matt wondered which way they had come from to get in. But Blaze knew, and he began to walk down the shaft quietly, shining the light as far as it would go.

That's when a couple of the enemy's troopers walked straight into the light beam from a side-shaft. One of them opened his mouth in surprise.

Half a second later, both were dead, one having been decapitated by Blaze, the other sprawled with a smouldering hole in his head, courtesy of a quick, accurate shot from Damon's silenced pistol.

Blaze turned off the light and strode back to the other two.

"They're searching for us. There's bound to be more of them out there." He whispered. "We killed these two quietly enough, so we can still surprise them. But stay close to me, this is going to be tricky."

The three then set off into the dark gloom of the mines, uncertain about their fate, but determined to put up a fight.


	32. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Bill watched as the rest of his strike force assembled around him, right after having left warp-space.

The small group was weaving between formations of bombers launching their long-range payload into important facilities on Macbeth. Somewhere to the distant right of the bomber group, enemy fighters were dancing around defensive fire from the bombers, doing as much damage to the formation that they could.

Again Macbeth loomed before Bill, that world where the Katinians had suffered their greatest defeats. This was the third time Bill would be doing battle over it, and he knew that it wasn't going to be the last.

"Husky Leader, this is Lance Leader. Are you in position?"

Bill flew to the right of the bomber, in line with its gigantic wing. "That's affirmative, Lance leader. Ready when you are."

"All right standby, countdown from ten, nine…"

Bill started storing power to his engines, making ready to launch himself upon Macbeth.

When Lance leader got to zero, Bill released the power, giving him the boost needed to keep up with the missiles that were now springing from the bombers, scores upon scores of them, towards Macbeth. Though flying amongst a flurry of missiles would be considered dangerous for most, Bill's crew expertly kept pace with them and stayed in formation, even as the outer edges of Macbeth's atmosphere began to blunt their approach. No enemy fighters came up to meet them, small wonder since the incoming missiles around Bill were but a small part of the overall bombing mission, and the enemy fighters would be most likely used elsewhere.

As Bill watched the ground get closer and closer, he began to make out the details of the bombing target- a large starfighter base which was already beginning to scramble one of its squadrons. Bill waited a couple of seconds, then accelerated even more, outpacing the missiles, bringing the ground on even faster. At the last moment, he hauled back on his flight stick, pulling level with the ground at only a few meters height. Not long after the G-force and the shuddering of his straining starfighter ceased, the full brunt of the missile strike hit the base, utterly consuming it in seconds. Red fireballs bloomed up behind Bill's group, swelling out over launch tunnels, sensor assemblies and starfighter hangars. Bill led his flight around a mountain, away from the carnage of the bombing run.

"All right people, hug the deck as closely as you can. This'll get rough if we're spotted."

The flight rounded another hill, bearing down into a long, huge valley. The valley floor was wide in places, narrow in others, but on the whole extremely flat. Rising up around the valley like sheer walls, were mountains at least ten miles high. It was as if a great wedge had been shoved into the ground at that place, but of course the truth probably was that some civilization that existed many millennia ago had struck deep into the heart of a mountain range in search of metals and wealth.

A transmission crackled into Bill's headset from Husky Four. "Husky Leader, scanner has detected the memory core. Two-hundred and twelve miles away, I'll relay the navigation data to you guys."

At that, Bill's HUD displayed a dot somewhere to the left with a distance indicator on it. He led the flight through the valley towards it.

The trees racing by under Bill's fighter, often less than a wingspan away, gave Bill a good indication of the speed he was going- pretty damn fast. Behind him his group was flying along in a similar manner, though the transports, being cumbersome as they were, flew at a greater height. The group passed between two monstrous mountains, sticking to the valley floor, as yet unchallenged by enemy fire.

As the group flew into the middle of the great valley, Benny's voice came through again. "Confirmed, scanner points to them being inside a mountain, probably in a mine or something."

It was true, the dot was somewhere inside a mountain on the far side of the valley, the distance indicator telling Bill that it was around a mile into the mountain itself.

"Leader, this is Twelve, the jungle floor is thick with vegetation. Our transports don't have the weight to bring trees down and we need stealth to do this, which means we can't bomb a hole in the canopy, so we'll need to land in a clearing nearby."

But Bill could only make out one solitary clearing, a good two miles from the black spot on the mountainside which he guessed was the mine entrance. "All right, we'll land in the clearing at bearing 225. I'll go ahead to make a sweep, then bring in the transports. All units circle until further orders." Bill turned towards the clearing, seeing that it was easily large enough to hold both transports and all six fighters. It was also perfectly circular.

Bill didn't need to be warned. He turned a hard right over the clearing, seeing two enemy transports and a body of enemy infantry milling around in the clearing. He accelerated away from them, as hastily fired rifle bolts sailed past around his fighter.

"All units be advised, LZ is hot, repeat, LZ is hot. Two transports and a company of infantry. Twelve, I want you to isolate their frequency and jam their transmissions. Transports, stay clear of the fighting, and Husky Five, stay with them. Everyone else, follow me and strafe the clearing. Take out their transports first."

Four fighters broke off from the escort formation and converged behind Bill, who had now looped his fighter to make another pass on the clearing. He brought his shields up and activated his lasers. Then he went to full speed and charged at the clearing.

His rapidly firing shots caught one transport in the cockpit and punched holes along the length of the second, causing the latter to explode violently. Sticks, following in his wake, finished off the first transport Bill had hit. Behind them, the other three pilots strafed the ground troops, vaporizing each one they hit. The feeble return fire glanced harmlessly off their starfighters' shields. On the ground, there was a mad dash as the exposed ground troops made for the relative safety of the forest.

Bill turned his ship and tore through the enemy troops again, strafing the forest near the clearing. "Demon Leader, I need you to head to bearing 089. Intel says that's the nearest air base. Don't activate your sensors, they might detect you. Just stay close to the ground, land if you can, at good distance, and if you see any fighters take off, let us know, blow them out of the sky and bomb the base."

"Got it, Husky Leader." Gus' fighter turned abruptly, then hastened away over the mountains and out of sight.

The enemy troops had now been driven well into the forest by the strafings, and Bill felt that it was time to be a little hasty and proceed with the mission.

"All right, move the transports in. Watch the northern end, I think there's still a concentration of enemy troops near the treeline."

As if in confirmation, an anti-aircraft laser bolt flashed by Bill's tail, missing only by virtue of a sudden engine boost. Bill flipped to avoid another one, and centered his crosshairs on the long, black cylinder that was aimed at his fighter. Four laser bolts dispatched the weapon and its operator.

The two transports came rumbling in, swerving left or right every now and then to avoid the enemy fire. Heavy concentrations of enemy troops still existed reasonably close to the clearing, and the transports' gunners did their best to scatter these threats.

At Bill's instruction the two Katinian transports touched down, using the burning hulks of the enemy transports as shields against the firepower coming in from the northern end of the clearing.

Suddenly, fire started pouring from the southern treeline, striking the transports and scoring their armor plating. They couldn't activate their shields on the ground, and a couple of their troops had already disembarked, suddenly forced to seek shelter behind rocks, or in little divots on the ground. The gunners manning the rapid-fire lasers on the transports' doors opened fire, pouring wave after wave of laser fire into the enemy positions, splintering great trees and searing the ground, but still their firepower paled in comparison to the combined weaponry of the enemy troops.

"Husky Leader, we're getting mauled out here! We need fighter support now!"

"It's on its way, hold tight. All fighters concentrate fire on the southern treeline!" Bill replied.

Five fighters then strafed the south end of the clearing, momentarily halting enemy fire, but once they passed, the rifles opened fire again.

"This is taking too long." Bill said. "All forces lay down suppression fire onto the enemy positions just long enough to get our troops off and into the trees. After that all units take to the air and provide aerial cover."  
"Confirmed. Here we go!" Yelled Bulldog Leader, initiating the action by offloading a wall of laser bolts into the trees south of the clearing, causing the enemy fire to falter. As the other four fighters mimicked the move, the troops on Bill's transports jumped out and made a sprint for the trees. Those already on the ground that sought cover also jumped up and ran, making best use of the momentary respite to reach cover.

"All ground troops away. We're lifting off." Said Fuzzy, and the two transports went airborne amidst a storm of rifle fire. The gunners remaining on the transports continued to fire into the enemy positions, while the starfighters set about dealing with the increasingly large number of anti-aircraft emplacements springing up.

Bill knew his forces on the ground would likely be outnumbered fifty to one, but with speed and good co-ordination, they could easily be in and out without even having anyone injured.

_Luck could still spiral this thing one way or another._ Bill thought. _I hope it goes our way, because if it doesn't, we are, at the very least, royally screwed._


	33. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Perry led the other five troops through the forest, all of them survivors from other squadrons who felt that they had a debt to the Huskies. Once out of the clearing, they had met very few enemy troops, and those that they had met were quickly dispatched by Perry's sniper rifle before they could even line up a shot.

Now the team was quickly and silently stalking closer to the mine entrance. Behind them, the sounds of starfighters and small-arms fire told the fury of the battle going on.

Mingled in with that was the sound of marching.

Perry motioned for the others to get down. Just ahead, an enemy patrol was coming through, twelve troops strong. Perry set a small device into the ground and used sign language to arrange his team. They all crept back, behind trees and into small craters and trenches, in a crescent around Perry's mine. Perry himself hid behind a log and set his sniper rifle.

As the patrol moved through, Perry picked his targets- if the mine didn't get him, he'd pop the commander first, then the comm officer then the heavy laser cannoneer.

The patrol moved right over where the mine was, running at some speed. One of them glanced down at the camouflaged green box on the forest floor.

Perry hit the trigger and sent half the patrol flying. The commander and comm officer were killed outright, so Perry went for the trooper scrambling for the heavy laser cannon. An unseen shaft of energy lanced straight through the creature's throat, stopping him dead.

At that, the rest of his team opened fire, cutting down every last trooper in the patrol. They spared each body a shot to make sure all the enemy troops were dead.

Perry waved his paw and his team emerged, moving stealthily towards the blip on Perry's scanner.

The forest floor began to slope upwards as they came to the foot of the mountain. Even from a distance, Perry could easily discern the gaping hole that was the mine entrance. Around the entrance, the trees were a little thin, and Perry could make out a large number of enemy troops there. It seemed to be a staging point of some sort, and Perry couldn't deal with it using only his small team. He activated his comm.

"Husky Leader, this is Husky Two, target at mine entrance, I estimate fifty troops there. My team requires you scatter them."

"I copy, stand by." Said Bill.

For a few seconds Perry and his team sat there, waiting. Then, a high pitched whine approached. The enemy troops suddenly looked skyward, and began to move, seeking better shelter.

Two fighters flashed past, lasers blazing. They left a trail of fire and destruction in their wake, maiming the body of troops assembled there. As the enemy began to scatter, a third fighter came through and struck down those left near the mine entrance. A transport then came in and began unleashing close, accurate fire into the enemy troops.

With the enemy's concentration now focused on the transport, Perry and his team swept in, blasting any troops about to see them. They all made the relative safety of the mine.

"Night vision." Perry muttered.

As he fitted the goggles over his head, details of the mine became clear. Where it once appeared pitch black, he could now see entrances and exits to the sprawling maze of mine shafts.

Lightning Four suddenly swore. "Shit, Husky Two, my night vision isn't working."

"Easy, quiet Lightning Four." Perry thought for a second. "All right, stay near the mine entrance, keep yourself hidden. I'll comm you when we're about to get back."

"Yessir." Lightning Two took off his goggles and went back towards the entrance.

"OK, everyone else, on me. Stay close, quiet, and let me handle dangerous spots." Perry said. Then they set their weapons to recharge, pulled out automatic pistols for close combat, and plunged into the darkness, following that blip which was near a mile away, somewhere in the mine.

Blaze bent low over the body of the enemy sergeant he had just killed. The rest of the squad had been romping through the mines with flashlights, which made them easy targets for him, Damon and Matt.

"Geez, I'll never get over how ugly these bastards are." Blaze commented, as he pulled a comm unit off the dead sergeant. "Nice. Now we can keep track of what they're saying."

"Well, they making any transmissions?" Asked Matt.

"Nope." Blaze thought for a moment. "Not much to talk about I guess. C'mon, keep moving." 

The trio made their way now towards the mine entrance. Blaze was in the lead, Matt carried the computer core and kept watch over their backs and Damon traveled between the two of them.

Blaze paused and sniffed the air. "I'd say we're about half a mile awa… DOWN!!!"

The three of them ducked just as a flashlight came around the corner. Another squad of troops had come, and some of them began firing immediately. Blaze, Matt and Damon returned fire, but only got one of the enemy as the rest ducked behind the corner again. Sporadic bursts of fire would cut through the darkness, but the fire was inaccurate and undirected, simply meant to pin them down until help arrived.

Suddenly Damon yelped, and began groaning as though in pain.

"Shit! Damon! Are you hit?"

"Arrgh… Not badly, a shot just grazed my tail, that's all… OW! It hurts like hell!" The young tiger replied through clenched teeth.

The two older creatures sighed in relief. "Matt, better stop swearing around the kid, now he's beginning to get foul-mouthed." Blaze muttered.

"Hang on… look!" said Matt. 

Additional sounds of combat emerged from the corridor ahead, but the fire coming in at them had abruptly ceased. Then all went quiet.

Neither Matt nor Damon could hear it, but Blaze caught wind of something being whispered by whoever was around the corner, and he whooped in joy.

"Perry! Perry! We're here! Around the corner!"

A flashlight came on around the corner, and a single person stepped out, his face hidden by a set of night-vision goggles.

"Blaze, I don't believe I've ever heard you so vocal." He said.

Blaze jumped up and gave Perry a warm backslapping hug. "I've never been so happy to see ya!"


	34. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

There wasn't enough time for a warm get-together, so the members of Fang, Demon, Lightning and Bulldog Squadrons simply exchanged greetings and handshakes with the trio before the group turned back the way they came.

They walked quietly and uneventfully for several minutes, until Perry activated his comm. "Get yourself up, Lightning Four. We're coming out."

"Be advised Husky Two, from my hiding place I can see a squad of six enemy troops at the cave entrance and an additional eight seeking cover in the forest nearby." Lightning Four crackled back.

"Acknowledged, stand by for further orders."

Perry stopped at the next corner, the last one before they were back at the mine entrance. He fished through his pockets and pulled out a small camera, which he plugged into his goggles and aimed around the corner.

_Yep, they're there all right._ Perry fingered his comm. "Bill, we need another dispersal raid on the entrance of the mine." 

"No problem, Perry, we were getting bored up here." Bill replied. 

A mere instant later, Perry heard the whine of engines again, and several of the troops outside ducked into the mine for cover. As laser bolts rained from the sky again, one of the transports hovered visibly outside the mine, pouring sustained fire into enemy emplacements. 

"Lightning Four, where are you?" 

"Niche above your position, Husky Two. What are your orders?" 

"Drop a grenade into the body of troops you see from there. We'll come out and kill any survivors, and you drop down and link up with us again. We're making a dash out of here. Bill, are you reading this?" 

"I copy, Perry, We'll cease fire in five seconds." 

Perry stuffed away the camera and backed a bit further down the mine shaft. A metallic clink sounded just outside, and everyone covered their ears. 

The grenade's explosion shook the mine shaft, and dislodged a lot of pebbles and dust. Perry charged out, followed by his whole team. With his goggles, he could make out surviving enemy troops despite the smoke and dust. The enemy troops could hardly do the same, and all were killed or incapacitated as the group of pilots sprinted out of the mine. 

Very little fire greeted them as the made a dash for the thicker forest. Most of the enemy troops were still watching the sky, and they were numerous enough that Perry was happy to just slip by them rather than take them down. 

"Bill, we're out of the mine and heading for the LZ. ETA…"

Perry was cut short by a rifle blast that very literally came within a whisker of him. It passed through the night-vision goggles that were now dangling from his belt, and went into Demon Two's thigh.

The rest of the team dropped and took cover as more enemy rifles were brought to bear. Perry dragged Demon Two behind a large rock. The wounded pilot was gritting his teeth, trying to keep from making too much noise.

Perry leaned out from behind the rock ever so slightly and fired three shots, but he couldn't tell if he had hit anything.

"Leader, Demon Two is hit, he's not going to be able to walk. We're pinned down around fifty meters from the mine, we'll need some cover fire."

"Not a problem, Perry. We'll have the boys on the transports with medipacks ready." Bill replied.

Perry nodded and turned to his counterpart from Demon Squadron. "Justin, sit tight, we're gonna have someone carry you."

"All right. There… SHIT!" The panther shrunk away from where a rifle blast struck pieces off the rock they had hidden behind. "There's gotta be at least twenty of 'em out there."

One of the transports suddenly flew overhead, momentarily eclipsing Lylat's sun. Its guns shot again and again into the source of the enemy fire. Bill's fighter soon joined it, and Perry had just set about dragging Justin when Blaze dropped in beside him.

"I got 'im, Perry. I'm the strongest one here." And with that, Blaze easily lifted Justin as if he weighed little more than a feather. "C'mon, let's move!"

Perry bit back his amazement. "Fair enough. All troops, follow me!"

The band of fighters joined Perry and Blaze as they charged through the undergrowth, unseen except by the odd isolated insectile trooper, and they were dispatched easily enough.

The group was now roughly half-way to the LZ. Perry's comm came to life again, but this time it was Captain Burke's voice that filled his headset.

"Guys, we got a big problem. I powered up just a few seconds ago- the radar array at the base here must have spotted one of you rising off the deck. I knocked out six fighters as the came out of the launch tube with a Nova bomb, but now they're belching out of the side ports. I can't hold'em here, I'm gonna make a firing retreat. If I hassle'em properly they might take fifteen minutes to reach you guys."

"Thanks Gus, stay alive over there." Bill replied. "Perry, What's your status?"

"We're sprinting out here, Bill, but we won't be there for ten minutes in this terrain."

"Piece of cake, five minutes to get clear and get out." Bill said, though to everyone else it seemed optimistic.

Perry kept them running full tilt, and though many of them were beginning to feel their lungs heave, they all kept pace with him, engaged in the deadliest race of their lives.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Perry sighted the clearing. "Husky Leader, we're coming to the clearing.

Blaze suddenly slung Demon Two onto one arm and fired his pistol with his free hand. The bolt struck a shadowy shape crouched near a tree, which promptly slumped to the ground.

Enemy fire leapt out from the prematurely sprung trap, and Perry's team was forced to once again seek shelter and hide from the enemy onslaught.

"Bill, they've moved back around the clearing. They're directly in our way."

Suddenly fire started coming in at them from their rear quarter, and Perry realized too late that the strike team had fallen into a hastily laid encirclement.

"News just got worse, Bill. We're surrounded."

"I see the troops near the clearing, but if I go for anyone else I might hit you Perry." Bill's fighter screeched by, once again pounding the enemy troops concealed in the treeline.

Perry pulled out a smoke flare from his side pouch, and visually checked the location of all his people. Then he transmitted Bill his reply.

"I'll put up a smoke flare- don't hit anything within twenty meters of it." Then Perry activated the flare and threw it into the middle of his formation.

Once again their air support came to the rescue, firing lasers and now dropping bombs; since the mission's secrecy had already been blown, they could be as liberal as they pleased with their weaponry.

Blue fire and green shafts of light sent pieces of the enemy troopers sailing high into the air. The spectacle was both terrible and spectacular to those on the ground- especially terrible to the enemy troops that had surrounded Perry. His own troops, for their part, stayed low to the ground and fired numerous accurate shots at the enemy, completely unmolested by the fire raining down from the sky. Even Damon emptied his pistol's battery, the close combat having driven him into a frenzy.

Within moments the fighters and the transports had created a ring of fire around the strike team, decimating the ranks of the enemy and giving Perry the opportunity he needed.

"Bill, pour all your firepower into the treeline! We'll charge it in thirty seconds. Get the transports down here!"

"I copy Perry. Stay cool, We've got it."

And so, for twenty-five seconds, the enemy force standing between Perry and the LZ was utterly decimated by a concentration of bombs and laser fire. Perry finished his countdown, plucked two rifles from his teammates, and then ordered his team to run for it.

As they leapt up and sprinted for the clearing, he took up the two automatic rifles, one in each hand, and laid down a web of fire at the enemy troopers behind them. It was inaccurate, but it did provide his retreating men with some suppression fire. When the batteries were emptied, he dropped the rifles, drew his pistol and himself ran, firing into the enemy as he went.

Ahead of him, the strike team (and the ones they rescued) quickly overran an enemy position which was heavily damaged by the air assault. They turned, and fired back at Perry's pursuers, providing Perry with precious cover fire. Soon, all of them were congregated at the edge of the clearing, fending off at least two platoons of enemy troopers. Then, finally, the two transports swept into the clearing, shooting off lasers at every source of enemy fire, storming the forest with their blasts. One of them touched down.

"All right, Blaze, take Justin, Matt and the kid to the transport. We'll cover." Perry shouted over the roar of the transport's engines.

Blaze nodded and ran to the waiting transport, carrying the wounded Demon Two and with Matt and Damon trailing behind. A little enemy fire came at them from various points in the forest around the clearing, but the lasers of the transports soon dealt with this. Perry and the remaining members of the strike team kept firing back into the jungle, keeping the enemy troops at bay. Once Blaze offloaded Justin, he took up his rifle and began adding its firepower to that of the transport, firing into the forest behind Perry and his team. A couple of shots actually hit him, but he didn't seem to notice them, let alone feel any pain.

"All right boys, let's go!"

The pilots remaining with Perry leapt into the clearing at his order. Perry remained behind once again, snapping off shots into the enemy forces that were now beginning to charge suicidally.

Perry figured that the enemy troops realized they were about to lose their quarry, and were now desperately trying to halt an escape. Perry didn't wait any longer. He dashed out into the clearing, ignoring the red bolts that passed by him, shots fired in haste and desperation.

Blaze was shouting to Perry and the other troops running to the transport; "GO! GO! GO!" and he was still firing into the forest, knocking out as many enemy troops as he could. Perry followed the team into the transport, and once hidden by its relative safety, he started ducking out again to continue firing into the body of enemy troops now charging the clearing. Blaze emptied his battery into them then also jumped into the transport.

Though the streams of laser fire coming from the transports never ceased, the enemy had gotten progressively closer, fanatically trying to destroy the transport that had landed, regardless of the cost to their own ranks. Less than a second after Fuzzy hauled the transport into the sky, a rocket stabbed through the air just beneath it- too close for comfort.

But both transports were now pulling away to safety, the small-arms fire coming from the clearing bouncing futilely off their shields. The gunners continued to pour their firepower into the enemy ranks, but they were of no threat anymore.


	35. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Bill's fighter fell in behind the two battered transports. "Is everyone in there?" He asked.

Fuzzy sounded exultant. "That's affirmative, leader! All members of the strike team made it back alive and we rescued our pilots- along with the computer core and a little friend they picked up. A couple of 'em need medical treatment, but Perry's dealing with it."

"All right Husky Twelve, keep your head about you, we've still got a starfighter situation to handle. Gus, what's the status?"

"A squad of six will be on you in one minute, coming on faster than the transports. Two other squadrons have also launched from other bases, but they won't catch up for quite a while." Replied the kangaroo.

"What kind of a while?"

"A while long enough not to cause us any trouble before we warp." With that, Gus' fighter burst into the valley, flying low and fast, catching up with Bill's formation.

Bill set the last phase of the plan into action.

"All right everyone, let's make a break for it. When those fighters come after us, I'll offload all of my missiles into their formation. I want Fara to polish off any that survive. The rest of you, stay close to the transports."

Bill's and Fara's fighters turned and sped away to face the oncoming threat. The transports by this stage had dropped shield and laser power and had directed most of their generators' energy into the engines. Both were now speeding towards the warp point as fast as the fighters.

"Fara, come up behind me. Lock onto all fighters, but don't fire until my missiles hit or miss, got it?" Bill said.

"OK. Missiles armed."

Soon they came, six enemy fighters, all brimming with weaponry and their pilots fueled by vengeance.

Neither vengeance nor firepower could help them though, against Bill's more advanced avionics systems. He locked onto each enemy fighter and fired six missiles before the enemy could get into firing range. The six streaks closed with the enemy fighters at terrifying speed, the fire consuming most of them without their pilots even having a chance to cringe. 

Only two managed to evade Bill's missiles, and they were promptly dispatched by Fara.

The two Kodiak fighters then went spaceward, putting maximum power into the engines.

Macbeth, site of their worst strategic loss, site of their greatest personal victory, was being left behind them. 

"All ships report." Bill said.

"Husky Five, I'm fine."

"Fang Leader, A-OK."

"Demon Leader here, just peachy."

"Bulldog Leader, I'm in top shape."

"Starfox Five here, No problems."

"Husky Four here, Only me and Terry on board. Must be crowded over there, huh Fuzzy?"

"You're missing the party Benny. All personnel accounted for. Everyone's alive and the intel package has been retrieved. We did it!"

"Excellent, well done group! We came through without losing anyone. That's how we gotta operate more often!" Bill checked the gravity indicator, unable to keep from smiling any longer. "All right, we're far away enough from Macbeth to warp. Everyone, warp on five. Let's go home."

An automated countdown started on Bill's HUD. The sensors reported multiple starfighters closing in on his group, but they were too late. His team would get clean away.

A moment later, his ship and his strike force left Macbeth space, having completed another mission.

And for once it had gone to plan.


	36. Epilogue

Epilogue

Of course, the Huskies couldn't celebrate at an official venue given that they had just completed an unofficial mission, but they felt that it was just as well.

Congregated in Bill's favorite bar, '_Joey's'_, they didn't have to wear dinner uniforms, nor were there dignitaries or media personnel around to hassle them. This was celebration at its purest- just letting go and kicking out, forgetting all their losses and defeats, making present their latest victory.

There were shouts of jubilation, verbal roastings and beer songs hanging in the air. Glasses were filled, emptied, then filled again. Pilots were comparing kill totals and debating matters of utmost importance, like which brand of Katinian beer was best.

It was at eleven in the evening that the bartender allowed Bill to stand on the bar. As Bill clambered on, the pilots began to cheer and applaud.

"Hey! All right, quiet everyone! Hey! Pipe down!" Bill shouted. When everyone was more or less silent, Bill began his speech.

"Well, as you know there are two very grateful pilots here this evening, Flight Officer Matt Keeler and Flight Officer Blaze Walters. First, I honor each and every one of you who stepped forward and forced yourself onto this mission, knowing the risks and yet pressing forth anyway. For those of you in Husky Squadron, it shows how well we bind together and stick with one another in times of strife. And that goes too for everyone in the 3rd Tactical Fighter Wing. This really wasn't your fight, but you came forward to help us anyway, and for that the Huskies are eternally grateful. Of course, it wasn't just us behind this mission. I'd like to make a toast to the one who made their retrieval possible, the one who organized the whole thing…"

"Oi Bill! You're supposed to toast _other_ people, not yourself!" Jeered Benny. The assembled group laughed.

Bill grinned at the veiled compliment. "… I speak of Admiral Hendrix, of course, without whom we wouldn't have even been able off Katina for the mission." Bill stared squarely at a casually dressed lion in a back corner of the bar and raised his glass. "To Admiral Hendrix!"

Many of the pilots glanced around in surprise- they had paid little notice to the lion who had been sitting, watching the frivolity.

"Admiral, if you'd care to comment?" Bill asked.

Hendrix stood and raised his own glass. "I'm glad you idiots came back alive."

Many pilots laughed. "Hear, hear!" one shouted.

Bill whistled to get everyone's attention again. "I have more to add, our young friend Damon was of course too young to attend tonight-" Bill shot a cross look at the bartender, who shrugged helplessly. "-But I've received word that he's been reunited with his aunt, some good news there." More applause.

"I'm sure most of you have heard the truth about Blaze now, and since he's willing to reveal who he truly is now, you'll be seeing more of his amazing talents come into play. Keeler's finally earned enough hours for Flight Officer status like the rest of us, so not only did we bring two of our people back from the dead, they got back better and stronger than ever.

We might have suffered losses in the past. We've lost battles and of course we've lost friends. But in the name of their memory and in the name of the free planets of the Lylat System, we go on, getting stronger with each battle, win or lose. We'll rebuild, strike again and make it count. 

Some of you may be better pilots than your comrades. Some of you might have special skills. Some of you are fearless, some of you have flown through countless battles, some of you have fame and some of you are unknown. But you have, every one of you, shown the stuff of legends. You've shown courage, will, tenacity, comradeship and warrior values, and that makes each of you a hero."

A roar went up from the pilots, cheering and clapping each other on the back.

"Now quit listening to me and live it up. You've earned it!"

In a darkened room deep inside Katina City base, a report on the analysis of the computer core recently retrieved by Husky Squadron was delivered to Katina's chief intelligence officer, General Forbes, an Avian.

Forbes spoke with the young agent who had delivered the information, questioning this and questioning that. Most of it consisted of events that had already transpired, accurate and complete. Even some of the most recent battles had been included in the plan.

Analysis of some of the upcoming attacks included in the computer core's memory corresponded with evidence already gathered by Katinian intelligence, and Forbes authorized deployment of forces to counter those threats.

Then he came to one of the last projected attacks, due to commence in three months. He paused in reading, his eyes widened and a cigar dropped from his beak. He was up standing and shouting orders to inform the military. But the young agent did not budge, instead calmly suggesting Forbes read some of the last pages before he issued further orders.

Forbes scrolled down. There, as an added bonus were the names and addresses of every turncoat and spy in the Cornerian and Katinian Armed Forces. As he read, his beak slackened more and more, and his eyes, if it was possible, continued to widen.

He finished reading. He looked up at the intelligence officer who now looked ready for orders.

"Move in on them all. Every single one. I want them all in my prisons within the week."

…Continued in _Husky Squadron: The Dogs of War_

**Preview in next chapter!**


	37. Preview from Part II

**From _Husky Squadron: The Dogs of War_**

Francine glanced out at the oncoming fighter. It was bearing down far too swiftly for her to offload her bombs into the carrier and escape unscathed.

Of course, this also meant that it was traveling too fast to evade, should she decide to engage with a close-range attack. She turned into her opponent's line of fire, then up suddenly. A quick boost and thrust vectoring brought her onto her opponent's tail, but he had already spun away, down and below Francine's line of sight.

Her holographic display tracked the other fighter being almost directly below her and moving onto her tail, so she followed, turning down to try and get onto _his _tail.

His turn, however, was a lot tighter than she had expected. Francine belatedly realized that he had left his throttle at low power, and was not interested in getting onto her tail at all. Her move had brought her ship in line with his guns and while both ships were facing each other, Francine was aiming far too low of the mark and couldn't hope to pull up for a shot in time.

She accelerated downwards, but not in time. His lasers struck aft of the cockpit, blowing out one of her engines.

"I'm hit!" She cried. A quick roll to the right helped her evade some more shots, but now her chances of winning the battle were slim. By accelerating downwards, she may have evaded some of her opponent's firepower, but she had effectively put him on her tail by doing that, and with one engine gone, she knew she had no hope of losing him, having now seen his skill.

More laser bolts stabbed into all parts of her ship, effectively reducing it to a molten blob, before it exploded.

"Simulation terminated." Bill's voice said over her headsets. "That was a good fight, but he was all over you, Fran. Looks like you lost the bet- Oh wait…" There was a pause. "Har har. Now as the winner he wants to buy you a round. Get on out here."

Fran blinked in surprise. _It wasn't Bill I was up against? But whoever it was, he was pretty good. Fox McCloud is still missing, and Old Ken wouldn't have his skills THAT polished, Sticks and Perry are still on leave, so who..? _


End file.
